


A Collection of OC Pairings

by Duskynoir



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Humiliation, Minor Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 65
Words: 325,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskynoir/pseuds/Duskynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.</p><p>Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What You Get (F!DB/Legate Fasendil)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, let's start this off. Fifty-Five fics which spanned from November 2013 to May 2015. It's a lot. And it won't include everything as some things are best left lost to the meme. But, nevertheless, here's a large collection of my OCs that I used. Some will be reoccuring a lot (Kjersti) while others may only have one fic (Pema).
> 
> Without Further Ado, we'll get into one of my lesser known Dragonborns. A female dunmer by the name of Saodoni.
> 
>  
> 
> Kink Meme Prompt: Because the sexy Legate doesn't get enough love. I don't have a particular situation in mind for them, I just want fluff and maybe some smut :D bonus points if she is part of the Thieves Guild or de Dark Brotherhood.

He held up the blade, judging it against the sun, feeling the weight in his hand and he handed it back to the Quartermaster who looked almost nervous when he did. “Feels a little off.”

The blacksmith sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m just not feeling the blades like I used to.”

Fasendil frowned as he watched the Nord grab his hammer and stare at it almost lost. “You haven’t been taking your breaks. Have you contracted something?”

The blacksmith said nothing, as if he was contemplating on whether he had when a large explosion not far to the right of them drew their eyes up. One of the soldiers got up from his seat by the fire and pointed. Fasendil followed his aim.

“Bandits!” the soldier cried and the men who had been loitering around were soon up and grabbing their weapons, the horses tied to their posts rearing and snorting in stress when Fasendil caught sight of what he meant. A bandit was running from down the hill, staggering for a moment as he did when a large fireball engulfed him and he screamed. Fasendil drew his sword and snapped at his men to form a line, watching the landscape desperately for what was attacking. The Quartermaster behind him grabbed a weapon and stood back as he was in plain clothes.

If it was a dragon, he would have to deal with it and he knew and feared that. Some of his men were archers but their iron arrows couldn’t possibly penetrate the scales of such a beast. But in order for them to overwhelm it, it would have to be taken and grounded. He gripped his sword hard and scanned the air.

The sound of another fireball being let out drew his eyes towards a small set of ruins that lay not far from their camp. He had seen sacks and chests there on his patrol but there was never anyone around and he couldn’t afford to stay and guard the camp on the chance of whatever was there came back. He wondered if the bandits saw the supplies and decided to move in on whatever occupied the space when an explosion of fire hit a tree, lighting it up briefly in hot flames.

Out of the ruins, something moved. He wasn’t sure if he saw it correctly but before he could judge, he was distracted by his men. “Hey!” a soldier yelled from behind him and he turned to see a bandit running through their camp, crying as he did.

“L-Leave me be!” he shouted but it wasn’t directed at them. Fasendil still wouldn’t allow someone like that to cross foot into an Imperial camp.

“Archers!” he yelled and one already had his bow out, aiming for the bandit when a soft whistle interrupted them. A black arrow came and slammed into the back of the frantic bandit, effectively killing the man. He dropped in front of Fasendil’s tent, dead before he even hit the ground.

There was only silence after. The sounds of fire sweeping the ground soon dissipated and they were left with only the wind in the trees, leaves scattering across the earth floor. Fasendil gritted his teeth. Thank the Divines it was not a dragon as he was sure a dragon didn’t use arrows but whatever it was, it was still out there and he feared for his men.

“Get rid of that body. And stay here,” he commanded them and he went outside the barricades, ignoring a few protests for him to stay as it was dangerous. He focused on the ruins, quickly crossing the grassy plain to them and he could smell burnt flesh in the air. He covered his nose and pushed past the rope strung up with skeletal parts. They cracked against each other sending out a sound like many swords hitting a rock and he heard something move. He brought his sword up and desperately looked about for whatever was in the ruins when he noticed an unnatural black shape moving near a crate. He charged without thinking, his eyes only forward and if he didn’t stumble on a set of stairs, there would have been an arrow in his head. The black weapon sliced past his ear and he found his heart stopping at the feeling despite his legs still carrying him forward.

The black shape moved back, grabbing another arrow from the quiver and from what he could make out it was a person but in armor he had never seen. The body was completely concealed in darkness, even the eyes not being shown but their movements were quick and the bow was drawn without a second. He was closer though, thank the Divines, and with one swing, he hit the weapon making the person stagger.

He was about to go for another when they kicked at his legs, making him fall back. They got up, grabbing their bow but instead of pulling an arrow they turned to flee. He staggered up with a determination not to let them but the masked unknown gripped their side and fell. They stumbled, struggling to get back up but whatever pain they felt in their ribs prevented them. He watched, almost out of pity before going to grab the criminal. Whoever it was the Empire would deal with them.

As soon as he grabbed their arm, a cry came out that was high and feminine. He dropped them in shock; it sounded like a woman. They took no time in trying to get away but he took long strides and grabbed their arm again with a bruising strength, pulling them so they fell on their knees before him and there was another cry, a female voice.

“L-Let me go!”

He didn’t but he was curious, to say the least. He grabbed the dark hood and pulled, uncovering the head of the woman covered in darkness and he was shocked to see long black hair fall out, grey skin underneath. Red eyes stared back at him, in pain and he loosened his grip a bit. It was a Dunmer. She grabbed her side, hissing and he found himself at a bit of a loss.

“What are you doing out here?”

She said nothing.

“Sadaoni,” he said in a stern voice. “Answer me.”

“Let me go, Fasendil!” she begged. “Please!”

He did nothing but stare at her. He was not well-met with a lot of Dunmer and he found a lot of the ones he was introduced to looked the same but he never forgot the one female who had been brought to him recently. She had been at Legate Rikke’s side and she was in Imperial gear; Legate Rikke and she were scouting the Rift to see if it was too soon to take the Hold and she had been introduced as a fairy tale name. The Dragonborn. He recalled her being incredibly sheepish and embarrassed about it but he had been more shocked that a Dunmer was the embodiment of a Nord hero and not, well, a Nord.

She wasn’t in Imperial armor now, though, and he kneeled down beside her still gripping her arm as he did and he gently pulled her hand away from her side. It was hard to tell against her black armor but he could see some sort of puncture wound. He finally let go of her and she made no move to leave, more focused on breathing hard and trying to forget the pain.

“I have some potions back at the camp,” he said and she didn’t reply, her fingers moving back to the wound. “Can you walk?”

She shook her head, her breathing becoming worse. He pursed his lips and instead pulled from the dark recesses of his mind the words of a healing spell. It had been so long since he used it that he had to take a moment to remember, the words and feeling fuzzy, but his hands sparked with light and he placed them on her.

He healed himself and he muttered curses. She let out a small laugh which caused her to cough and grip herself harder.

“Oh, Oblivion be damned,” he growled and he grabbed her, making her cry out as he hauled her into his arms. She was light and he adjusted her in a bridal style making her flush and grip at his steel armor.

“F-Fasendil, this-! This is highly inappropriate!”

“Please. You’re a high-ranking soldier for the Empire. If anyone asks, I’m helping a fellow wounded Legionnaire… despite their choice of armor.”

She flushed and became quiet, gripping him as he started carrying her down the slope towards their camp. The sun above them was now beginning to wane, hiding behind the mountains and he tried not to trip as he carried her but the leaves that had been disturbed caused the ground to be slippery. She held on to his tight, her breath near his ear and he found himself blushing.

The men all came forward as he approached. “Legate,” one of them called and he ignored them, carrying her into the camp to a frenzy of leering stares. “Legate, are you alright?”

“Bring me some potions,” he commanded, walking past them to his personal tent. “A soldier is hurt.”

She hid her eyes when he said it and the men stood in place for a moment before dispersing, one grabbing a few potions while the others went back to pretending to work. Fasendil sighed and stepped into his tent, placing her gently on his bed. The whispers of his men drifted to his ears.

“What soldier? Who is that?”

“She isn’t wearing our uniforms. How does the boss know she’s one of us?”

“Somethin’ ain’t right.”

“Quiet! He’s looking this way!”

Fasendil glared at his men until one came forward with a large red bottle. He took it from him and dismissed the soldier before sitting on the side of the bed and handing it to Sadaoni. She took it with a delicate grip and struggled to get the top off before he reached over and did it.

“T-Thank you,” she softly said as she began to drink and he watched her, his eyes going to the wound. Her breathing stopped being so harsh once she had swallowed a small portion of it and when she had consumed past the halfway point, her body relaxed and she no longer seemed so bothered by the pain. It took her a few more tries to drink right to the bottom but once she had she seemed as if she had never been harmed at all.

He reached down to her side, feeling it and his fingers brushed against a foreign object. He pulled it and out came the broken end of an arrow, her skin closing up where it had been. He held it for her to see and she sighed, taking it from him. “I guess one of them had a better aim than I gave them credit for.”

He only stared at her and she shifted uncomfortably on his bed.

“Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?” he asked again. She rolled the arrowhead between her fingers, avoiding the question. “Why did you shoot at me? Why are you in this strange gear? Where’s Legate Rikke?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she breathed out. “I… didn’t recognize you. I thought you were a bandit who stole our Legion’s gear.”

He pressed his lips together. He recalled hearing about things like that on the roads. It disgusted him that there were criminals killing their men and exploiting travelers with such rouses but he had no way to control it. “Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?”

“Rikke is at Castle Dour,” she finally said, answering his previous question and ignoring his once again repeated one. “General Tullius decided not to take the Rift.”

Fasendil frowned. “Why not?”

She sighed. “Too few men right now, not enough funds, take your pick,” she said quietly. “He’s focused on Winterhold right now before taking something as large as the Rift. Thinks it will come in handy if Ulfric moves North.”

Fasendil said nothing but he contemplated what she said. They had taken Dawnstar months before as he recalled. A heroic effort which had cost the Empire more soldiers than they anticipated but it was secured for them now. He could almost feeling the Thalmor laughing from the shadows over it and he reached up and rubbed his temples. The General was probably right in his insight; taking the Rift now would be disastrous and helping the Thalmor and their dirty plans further than needed.

It still didn’t answer his question. “What are you doing here, Sadaoni?” There was a long stretch of silence between them and she placed the arrowhead on his bedside table before she attempted to get up. “Sadaoni!”

She stopped but she refused to meet his eyes. He found his heart sinking and he had to ask. “Have they expelled you from the Legion?”

Her head snapped up in almost horror. “No!”

He relaxed. That was a relief. “Then where is your armor?”

She gave him a defiant look before her shoulders fell and she looked to the boards covering the ground. “I don’t like it. I cannot move with it on so I am wearing the armor I need,” she said. “I have not been given orders to be deployed yet so I am allowed to do whatever business I wish until I am. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it will do.”

She didn’t seem pleased by his response.

“I’m worried about you,” he commented and he watched her blush, her hands tightening on his bed. He flushed himself. “N-Not… like that. I worry about all people of the Empire, especially those giving their lives to it. You mean more right now because-”

“I’m the dragonborn?” she interrupted in a bitter voice.

“Because you’re in odd armor chasing bandits and got hurt in doing so,” he cut in himself, offended she would even think such a thing. Her red eyes moved to see his and he gave her a sincere look. “Honestly, Sadaoni. What were you thinking? What if I didn’t come and you got worse?”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes still searching his before she got up off the bed and stood before him, her frame so small and petite compared to his. He heard the sounds of the Quartermaster stop hammering and he looked out towards his men who were all staring in anticipation. He felt his cheek twitch and he was about to yell at them when her soft fingers cupped his cheek and made him turn back.

She kissed him and he felt his heart stop. The sounds of his men gasping didn’t help either.

She pulled away, giving him a kind look before moving to leave, pulling out her hood as she did. “You’re a good Altmer, Fasendil. Not like some who I have met. I will see you when my orders are given to take the Rift. Please, take care of yourself until then.”

He continued to stare at the wall of his tent, his ears burning and his voice lost but he snapped back to reality and got up, ready to chase after her. She swiftly crossed the camp, ignoring the men and was already disappearing into the darkness of the forest beyond the clearing before he could even reach the edge of the barricade. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he did, confused on what had just transpired.

She didn’t even answer his questions properly, just gave him more to ask if they ever met up again. He turned to see his soldiers staring at him, some giving him a goofy grin and others solemn, nodding once in approval. His thoughts of her disappeared in his mind. “What are you all doing!? Get to work! I expect all of you to be in perfect battle form for tomorrow as you’re all performing a mock battle!”

They all stiffened, some groaning but they scattered like ants, going back to work and he found himself going to the Quartermaster who was hammering the same piece of steel he was earlier, his lips pressed together tight. 

“Saul,” the Quartermaster looked up but did not speak. “Have you ever seen armor like that?”

He stopped hammering and contemplated it, quiet as he did before he shook his head. “Never before, Legate. But I’m only well versed in Imperial armor and some lower forms of smithing such as leather and hide.”

Fasendil sighed.

“But… there are rumors,” the Quartermaster said as he took the piece of steel and turned it over, his fingers running over the imperfections that littered the rough blade. “Of armor black as night. It is not made from ebony nor daedric but of material light as a feather and dark as a winter sky. Enchanted by Nocturnal and given to her protectors.”

He stepped forward, interested. “Protectors?”

“The Nightingales.”


	2. When Can I See You Again (F!DB/Legate Fasendil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First original fic I ever wrote for Skyrim. Featuring my F!DB Sadaoni & Legate Fasendil. Nothing explicit, just fluffy crap.

"Buy armor from Grelka!" a voice called in the market. "Protect yourself right!"

"Rare trinkets and the finest oddities from Morrowind!"

"Buying and selling fine jewelry here!"

Fasendil stared at the dismal scene, of the few market stands in a circle with no one being coaxed to the wares, the shopkeepers looking desperate while a few beggars sat nearby, itching their skin as their addiction had run too deep. He found himself wincing inwardly as one of his soldiers walked around them, nearly kicking the old woman as he did. He looked back to the dark elf who was bundling up the cut of meats he had bought, her eyes weary as she did.

He honestly expected better when he had come here. He had heard reports from his scouts that Riften wasn't exactly a clean place but he had brushed it off as them referring to the smell of fish from the docks it held. He had been around sea ports before and he knew how people who weren't used to it would recoil and locate elsewhere. This, however, was different. The city itself was dirty from poverty, the docks, and corruption. He remembered seeing a few stray dogs roaming the alleys, one foaming at the mouth and he had ordered his men to kill the diseased thing but they refused.

It wouldn’t have irked him so much if they were his own men since he would understand their reasoning but his soldiers were stationed at the Fort, protecting it. The new ones under him were from Riften and in no mood to accommodate his orders. In fact, half the time he was fighting them on it since they seemed to think their orders came directly from the Jarl and not him, the Legate for the Empire. He felt himself give a weary sigh, longing for home in Cyrodiil before he looked back to the woman. She was still wrapping his meat delicately and he found himself talking despite knowing how Dunmer usually hated that.

"How long have you been in Riften?" he asked and she didn't look up but he could see her cheek twitch.

"Long enough," she said abruptly and he sighed. Before he could figure out what more to ask she handed him the wrapped bundle. "Here. They won't spoil right away so you can take a few days to eat them but I suggest you don't take more than a week."

"Thank you," he gave her a small satchel of coins and she merely nodded and went back to her cart. He left her be, giving one of the beggars a few coins making the man babble his thanks before he headed back to the keep, his body weary from just a little exchange. It was if the city was sucking the life out of him. It didn't help either than the new Jarl of the place seemed perfectly happy with how the way things were running.

He left a few cuts out for the men to enjoy during the night and went back to his semi-private quarters, placing the bundle on his dresser. When he opened it to put his coin away he noticed something was missing. A few of his civilian clothes were gone and he frowned, digging through the drawers.

He went out into the common area and found one of the off-duty soldiers who was playing with a deck of cards. "Soldier... has anyone been in my room?"

The man barely looked up which irked him but he gave a shrug. "Dunno, Legate. Lots of people come through here."

He stared at him. "Like who?"

The soldier didn't answer, he merely tossed a few more cards on the table before he rounded them up and shuffled them. "People."

"Soldier, I command you, as your superior, to answer my question!" he said, losing his patience. The man still gave him a defiant look, cutting the deck in half to sort before he joined them both.

"I don't know Legate. Like I said. People come through here."

He left, annoyed. He went back to his room but found himself now displeased as his privacy seemed violated and he took to going down to where he usually spent the day by the map of Skyrim.

He found himself staring at it, his eyes glazing over as he did. He missed home and Cyrodiil; he missed his retired parents despite the fact they were probably missing him more. But most of all he missed having some sort of freedom. He felt chained to this place and the sour expressions that came with it. He was tired of the attitude he was getting, especially from a lot of the Nords. He heard them hiss at him he was a Thalmor spy when his back was turned and it angered him more than anything.

He came here to watch the bastards and now he was accused of being one by his race and genetics alone. His shoulders slumped and he once again felt weary as if he hadn’t had a proper sleep in a century.

Light footsteps on the floor drew his eyes up and he looked to see the Jarl coming, her new dress shining of gold and jewels he had only seen worn by nobles in Solitude. He pursed his lips and she came to him, crossing her arms.

“Jarl,” he tried to say respectfully but she sneered at him making him sigh internally. “What can I do for you?”

“My men informed me you’re dissatisfied with the amount of protection on the roads,” she said in an uninterested tone making him frown. “So what, now I need to protect every inch of the roads for the fools who come?”

He flushed. “I have been getting reports of innocent civilians being attacked by thieves and bandits. I just think another patrol added along the mountain path would be wise.”

She scoffed. “Such things are not of my concern. I do not request civilians to go and walk the roads unarmed. The soldiers are needed here. Your request is denied.”

He found himself flushing a bit in irritation at her. “You can’t deny my request. I am asking General Tullius of this matter! This is for the Empire!”

“How do you think I learned of this?” she shot back making him grow silent. “Legate, I understand you wish to… save the world or whatever it is your empty head wants,” she insulted making his ears turn pink in embarrassment. “But you are not a general and unbeknownst to you, obviously, you serve under me, the Jarl. So I suggest you drop the issue and focus more on reigning your men in instead of trying to demand things without asking me. Are we clear?”

He said nothing, his jaw set tight and she noticed his discomfort. “Are we clear, Legate Fasendil? Or do I have to personally write a letter?”

“We’re clear,” he said softly and she seemed to look at him in some sort of twisted satisfaction before leaving. He could feel a few of the soldiers who guarded the doors eyes on him and he went to staring at the map hard, his cheeks red and his pride bruised.

When he finally retired for the day he found a pair of his boots missing and he sat on his bed, exhausted. He was too tired to deal with it. He didn’t even feel like eating despite only having bread in the morning and his stomach hurting. He took to taking his armor off, tucking it underneath his bed and he laid down, staring at the ceiling.

At some point he fell into an uneasy dream, his mind still too stressed to let him properly fall asleep leaving him experiencing strange, surreal hallucinations when a hand touched his body in reality. He jerked, waking himself and before him was a person clad in black armor, their eyes hidden well but he knew they were on him.

He fell back against his bed. “Sadaoni,” he said softly and a hand came to touch his neck, the black leather smooth against his skin. “What are you doing here?”

She said nothing but she leaned down, tugging gently at her cowl to expose her a part of her face, her lips caressing his. He leaned into it, grateful as he hadn’t felt her comfort in a long time. “Where have you been?” he asked.

She stroked his neck, quiet. “Away,” she finally said and he sighed. “You don’t look very well, Fasendil.”

He reached up and touched her hand, holding it to him. He could feel her warmth through it and he found himself moving to stroke her cheek, her skin smooth. “I’m just tired.”

She frowned. “Forgive me for waking you,” she said but he shook his head.

“I’m tired of here. Of this,” he said making her bit her lip. “I’m just… so very tired.”

She moved her hand, reaching up to stroke his hair and she leaned down to kiss him again, her lips welcome against his. He cupped her neck, pulling her down to feel more of her warmth and comfort but she resisted, still shy. He persisted until she finally relented and she climbed on his bed, pressing against him as she pulled her cowl back.

Her red eyes were still mysterious but her black hair was now longer and spilled down her front, almost touching his chest. He touched the strands, curious on how silky they were, and she flushed. He found himself looking into her eyes and he pursed his lips together briefly before speaking. “Stay with me tonight. Just to sleep. I just need some sort of break from all the corruption and unfriendly comments and stares I get.”

She frowned at him. “Who is bothering you?”

He shook his head, too exhausted to tell and she seemed a bit unhappy but she let it drop, moving to curl up beside him, her small body easily fitting on the bed next to him when he rolled on his side. He buried his face into her hair, breathing in the smell of lavender and rose petals and she pressed against his chest, still shy. He would have teased her if he wasn’t so exhausted.

When he woke in the morning, she wasn’t there but there was a pile of clothes on the dresser making him stare in shock. He got up, tugging on his armor and he found his boots beside his bed, shined and neatly placed along with a small pile of gold. He found himself touching it, wary before he went out into the common area, his soldiers all gone and to their posts.

He pursed his lips and went to find someone to ask what in oblivion was going on when his name was called from down on the first floor of the barracks. He relented and went to greet whoever was calling him when he found Jarl Maven standing at the door, a soldier standing next to her, nervous. She looked displeased and he found himself frowning, giving her a short bow.

“Jarl,” he began but she held up her hand, silencing him.

“One patrol,” she said, irritated. “And only by day and to the end of the lake. Further than that, everyone has to fend for themselves.”

He stared at her in shock and he found himself having to ask. “Why did you change your mind?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s just say I owed someone a favor. Now go choose the men and don’t you dare ever go to General Tullius without talking to me first, understand?”

He nodded, still in shock and she left, the door slamming behind her. He found himself thinking to Sadaoni, if the little Dunmer had anything to do with it but he shook it off. There was no way someone as shy and quiet as her could possibly know all his troubles and get every item he lost back within a few hours. Still. He decided not to dwell on it and went to go round up some soldiers, grateful that at least something good had come to him for once since he got the position in Riften.


	3. Coin (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Seems like the DB barely has time to relax what with saving the world, destroying vampires, or fighting another dragonborn. Their follower/companion/guild sees this and what do they do? Take them out for a drink and to relax of course. The mead can run steady for one night right?
> 
> Last fic I ever wrote with Sadaoni. Has implied Legate Fasendil romps. I did want to expand her more but really, the small snippets seemed to fit. Originally I was going to write her death and how Maven sent Maul to kill her (and he did it) and she became a one of the Twilight Sepulcher's guardians but. Well. Things don't turn out in Word Document sometimes.

“Take my advice, love,” Delvin said as he pushed a tankard towards her making her frown from behind her cowl. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”

“…Delvin…” Sadaoni started, not moving to even touch the drink when Brynjolf came up beside her, dragging one of the chairs.

“Boss, you need a drink,” he said casually as he angled the seat but he didn’t sit. She watched as he fetched another chair, the small table now becoming crowded and she was forced to move over close to Delvin as he took a seat leaving one empty. His guest soon arrived and Sadaoni found herself a bit shocked.

“Karliah,” she said as the third Nightingale came. She slowly sat down, her own black armor shining a bit in the candlelight and she pulled her cowl down to expose her lips and chin but not her eyes. “It’s rare to see you in the Flagon.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Yes. I do suppose I don’t come here as much as I should,” she said in almost a whisper. “But I was asked.”

“Asked?”

All three looked at her and suddenly she felt very self-conscious. “Sadaoni…”

She pursed her lips.

“You need a break.”

She found herself gaping at them. “…A break?”

“Aye, boss,” Brynjolf reached over and grabbed the tankard, shoving it in front of her making her stiffen. “A break.”

They stared at her as if they expected to her just suddenly throw her hood back and relax and start drinking like a Nord. She did nothing – almost in defiance – before Vekel came and placed four more tankards on the table. He waited for a moment, all eyes on her and she found herself digging her nails into her thigh.

“I don’t drink,” she lied and Delvin smirked as he looked to Vekel who raised a brow but went back to the bar.

“If you don’t, then how come you have a tab up there at the Bee and Barb?”

She flushed before stammering. “T-That tab is for…” she thought quickly. “Iona. I-It’s just under my name.”

“Wrong,” Brynjolf said and he picked up one of the mugs of mead. “We know it’s for you and your… special friend.”

She turned on him, her eyes sharp though she knew he couldn’t see and her silent embarrassment and fuming was only answered by him tapping his nose. She flushed deeply under her dark hood and suddenly became self-conscious. Did she smell like mead after she left the Bee and Barb? Or was it the smell of what she had done upstairs with… 

She buried her hands in her face. Great. Now all of Riften probably knew about her and Legate Fasendil. Not that they hadn’t been caught before but she paid Shadr off for his silence and they were always careful. She let her head sink down, her forehead hitting the table and Delvin began to chuckle.

“Look love, we don’t care about yer, erm, bedroom activities,” he said and she winced. “What we’re more concerned about is how hard you’ve been pushin’ yourself.”

She raised her head and she saw Karliah now had a tankard in her hand, her fingers clasped around it delicately but her eyes were on her. She looked to Brynjolf who was taking a drink and he raised his eyebrows at her. It was back to Delvin for an explanation and he sighed as he leaned over the table, hands clasping.

“You don’t take breaks.”

She flushed. “I’m the Guild Master.”

He didn’t seem pleased by her answer. “So? That should make you relax more, not less.”

“He’s right,” Brynjolf said as his tankard hit the table. “You may have more responsibility, boss, but you have underlings now to take care of the small jobs.”

She straightened in her chair a bit. “I enjoy those jobs.”

“Alright, fine. We know, we’re all Thieves here. But you take on a lot at a time.”

“Yeah boss.”

She flushed and looked straight at Karliah who was still silent. “Karliah?” she asked but her sister kin didn’t react. “You haven’t said anything.”

She remained still, collected and calm, and she wondered if she even had an opinion when she spoke. “I agree with Brynjolf. You need to take a break sometimes.”

She was starting to dislike this. “I do take breaks.”

“Breaks with us,” Delvin said. “Not with your listless Legate lover.” She turned red under her cowl, her eyes fixed on him to the point where he looked away uncomfortable and a tankard of mead was once again pushed towards her.

“Drink, lass,” Brynjolf said making her turn. “Have some fun.” She pursed her lips and didn’t move. Brynjolf sighed and looked to Karliah who was slowly lifting the tankard up, contemplating taking a drink. “Karliah, dear. Can’t you do anything?”

She looked at him, silent. They exchanged a look and she sighed, placing the tankard down. She reached down, fussing for a moment before she pulled out a bag of coins. Sadaoni stared as she placed it on the table.

“One hundred coins,” she said making her frown. “I bet one hundred coins you cannot drink a tankard of mead faster than Delvin.”

That made her eyebrows go up. She looked to Delvin whose expression was turning sour and he glanced at her. He grabbed a tankard, taking in a breath and she found her hand taking one. She wasn’t a gambler but when her pride was on the line she would step up. She pulled down her cowl, finally letting her hood fall back and she stared at them.

She brought the tankard to her lips and looked at Delvin who gave her the same look. Brynjolf began to grin.

“Are you two ready?”

Sadaoni sighed. “Nocturnal, give me luck.”

 

 

She woke up with a pounding head and her back felt out of joint. One look up revealed she was in the Cistern and she groaned, rolling on the bed she was on. It wasn’t even her own and she groaned even louder, her black hair falling over her face.

“Morning sunshine,” a familiar voice said and she moved to see where her mystery guest was, her eyes adjusting when a tankard was held out to her and she looked up to Niruin who was grinning. She shook her head, her throat suddenly parched.

“No more mead.”

“It’s not mead,” he smiled. “I’m afraid after last night we’re nearly out. You four can really drink, you know that?”

She flushed. “…What happened?”

He sat down beside her, pushing the mug into her hands and she was forced to sit up to take it, her eyes hurting and her limbs heavy. He merely grinned and took a drink from whatever was in his tankard. “Oh, I came in late so I don’t know what the story was before Delvin fell into the Cistern.”

“W-What?”

“But I did watch you play a game of how many buckets can you put on people’s heads,” he said and she began turning pink. “You also went up into Riften with Brynjolf but it didn’t last long since Maul came down not to long after to get Dirge to bring you back. You apparently thought it was smart to dive into the moat from the market.”

She felt her ears burn and she avoided his gaze as she drank the lukewarm water that was in the tankard, embarrassment flooding her body. He chuckled. “Don’t worry, boss. No one saw. Well, no one important. The guards all did but they’re used to this.”

“Niruin…” she said quietly and he looked to her. “…Where is everyone now?”

“Hm? Oh, Brynjolf is in jail. Don’t worry, Maven will get him out once he’s woken up. She’s just left him in there as punishment since you two decided to rob Mistveil Keep… but of course you passed out before they could jail you.”

She turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Delvin is sleeping it off in the Flagon. He took the night off early. Probably for the better.”

“…A-And Karliah?”

He thought about it. “I’m actually not sure. She didn’t seem as drunk as you all but then again she was speaking a lot.” He took a drink and contemplated it. “She disappeared right around when Maul came.”

She could only sigh and she put the tankard down on the floor before turning on the bed, her face planting into the pillow. This is why she didn’t take breaks with anyone in the Guild. She was contemplating just how to apologize and fix things when Niruin spoke.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re also requested to go see the Legate,” he said and she froze.

“…W…Why?”

When he didn’t speak right away she turned, looking to him in fear and Niruin merely smiled. He took another drink. “Something about you announcing your wedding in the Bee and Barb. I didn’t see that coming. Are you really with the Legate?”

She gave him a horrified look before her face was in the pillow again.

She was going to die.


	4. As Sweet As Honey (F!OC/Harrald)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Something cute between anyone and a male Nord, please? Maybe spending time outside together? Doesn't have to be romantic. Squicks are bathroom stuff and violence!
> 
> I doubt anyone has ever looked at Harrald and thought 'There's the man for my OC'. But then again, I'm fucked. Really, it didn't turn out this way to begin with. I had a female Bosmer thief named Falin and as I was dicking around Riften, I saw Harrald. Long story short, I liked them together. And here we are.

She couldn’t help but giggle when he missed the target dummy for the third time, his wild swings sending him forward too much and he only nicked the arm, not even cutting a stitch. He paused, sweat on his brow and he looked back at her, fuming. She silenced herself. But not before grinning as she did.

“You think this is funny?” he spat and she crossed her arms, leaning against the stone pillar that made up the upper walkway to the guard quarters of Mistveil Keep. She didn’t reply, only watched him and he huffed, turning back to the dummy. He went at it again, trying to make a point he was a force to be reckoned with but he stumbled and ended up hitting the thing, knocking the bucket off its head.

She laughed, covering her mouth as he did and he threw down his dagger, furious. “Shut up!”

“I’m sorry, Harrald,” she giggled, bringing her other hand up to cover her mouth, her shoulders shaking. “It’s just… every time you miss because you’re trying to act tough, it’s funny.”

He stormed to her and she bit her lip, putting her hands down and he was right against her, his cheeks flushing red showing off his freckles. She tried not to laugh but her shoulders still shook.

“Stop making fun of me! I’m the son of a Jarl,” he snarled and she straightened herself, swallowing down her giggles although it was damn hard. “You know that if I had my sword, that stupid thing would be in shreds.”

“Of course, honey,” she said and he frowned at the nickname. “After all, the weapon is always what wins the battle, not the wielder.”

He glared at her. “Shut up.”

She sighed, still trying not to smile but she finally cracked just as he was getting moody. She touched his arm and he shrugged her off but she wasn’t letting him go that easily. It took her weeks for her just to earn his damn trust and she was actually smitten with him. He was like a lock that she just had to pick. Once she got in, she found he was actually a treasure.

Of course, the rest of the guild denied that. Vipir even booed her when she announced she intended to court the Jarl’s rude son. But she didn’t care. She liked him and how difficult he was. Their Guild Master just rolled her eyes - or she assumed she did since the Nightingale Hood made it hard to tell - and gave her one word of advice.

‘Don’t let his mother hear you two, yes?’

Naturally, she wanted to make sure all of Mistveil Keep heard her when she snuck into his room but she did have to heed the advice of her Guild Master. Jarl Laila was still blind to their Guild and its reach and they all preferred it that way. Anuriel assured her their fair Jarl still thought the Thieves Guild had been dealt with a year ago by Mjoll but she was going to alert her if she did keep visiting in her gear. She should change, it was stressed. But her armor was comfy and her son was handsome and she tugged at his arm again, pulling him back towards her in the present.

“Oh, Harrald,” she teased, running her fingers over his chest making him grumble. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me,” she pouted a bit and he sulked, crossing his arms making her frown. She moved to stand in front of him, pulling at his arms to break them apart but he was being a child about it. She did manage after a second, moving in quickly to wrap herself around him and she stood on his feet, leaning up so their eyes were equal. He glared at her.

“Get off me,” he said and she pouted.

“Oh, Harrald, come on,” she whined. “I’m sorry! Look, I can make an ass out of myself for you if you want. Then you can laugh at me.”

He turned a bright shade of red. “I wasn’t making an ass of myself!”

She bit her lip. Okay, wrong thing to say and she ran her hands up and down his back, trying to make him relax. He wasn’t buying it.

“Harrald,” she whined his name. “I’m so-o-orry.”

He let out an irritated sigh, his hands moving to rest on his hips and he glared at her. She snuggled up to him, pressing herself against his chest and she sneaked in a quick kiss against his chin. He pressed his lips thin but didn’t push her back so she moved up, kissing the side of his mouth.

“Falin,” he grumbled but she didn’t stop. She kissed his cheek, his nose, his jaw, and then to his neck where she left a few light butterfly kisses. He let out another sigh. “Falin.”

She pulled back. “Do you forgive me?”

He furrowed his brows but after a minute he slumped a bit, his hands moving off his hips.

“Fine,” he said in an irritated voice and she giggled, kissing him properly. She threw her hands around his neck, jumping up a bit so he had to grab her rear and hold her up and she wrapped her legs around him. “H-Hey, stop that! We’re outside!” he spat and she nipped at his bottom lip.

“Oh, come on, Harrald. The entire city guard knows what we do together. It’s not that secret!” she said and he gave her an annoyed look.

“I don’t want my mother to know,” he said.

“Why not?” she said. “It’s not like she’s against Bosmer women. Look at Anuriel and Wylandriah.”

He frowned for a moment. “They’re not sharing my bed.”

“What, she has a problem with elves and humans mixing?” she said, rather hurt and his frown increased. That made her hesitate and she pushed off him a bit. “Harrald? Is that it?”

“I’m the heir to the throne, Falin,” he said and he pushed her back, making her stand up on her own and she looked at him, serious for once. “The wife I take is to be a Nord so our heirs will be Nordic and take up the throne from me.”

She looked him over, dissatisfied with his response. He did once mention that he didn’t want mother to know but that was because she was riding him on his bed like he was a champion stallion. She assumed he didn’t want his mother to walk in and see one of her precious boys losing their virginity. But this bothered her more than being caught.

“Is that what you want?” she asked. He furrowed his brows.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said in a rather angry tone. “Now… Now I think you should leave, Falin. Go back to the guild.”

She crossed her arms. “No.”

“Falin,” he said and she stepped towards him, pushing his arms to his side and she wrapped hers around him again. “Falin, this isn’t going to work.”

“Harrald,” she said, becoming irritated. “I’m not asking you to marry me. We were just having some fun.” She hugged him tight, pressing against him again making him frown and she drew her fingers down his back lightly. “I like you.”

“Yes, but we can’t-”

“And you’re not getting married at the moment,” she pointed out, leaning against him again. He sighed, his shoulders falling a bit and she gave him an honest look - something that was quite rare for a thief. “We can be together until then, can’t we?”

He didn’t reply and she knew she had to sweeten the deal a bit. After all, she truly wasn’t looking to marry him. But she did want to be with him and she knew he wanted to be with her. Or she hoped he did otherwise his incoherent confessions of love when he was orgasming was a really good act. But regardless, she had just gotten him into trusting her and she honestly was smitten with him.

She leaned up, straining on the tips of her toes and she kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back, still hesitating and she sighed, frowning against his lips.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private then?” she said. “Where your mother and the guards can’t see?” She nodded to the guards standing by the table who were talking but in rather low voices meaning they were eavesdropping at the same time.

He looked over his shoulder and back to her. “Like where?”

“Umm,” she had to think. Riften wasn’t exactly the most private city and considering he probably didn’t want to go into the sewers or rent a room for a few hours at the Bee and Barb, she needed to choose somewhere else. “What about outside the city wall? Where the old entrance used to be?”

He frowned at her suggestion.

“There’s no where else?”

“Can you think of somewhere?” she asked. “Unless you want to go to your room. At this hour in the day.”

He sighed, contemplating it before he nodded to the guard quarter doors. “My room.”

“Fine,” she agreed and she went ahead of him, leaving him to go grab his dagger and follow behind. The Stormcloak commander didn’t notice her sneak by him, nor did the guards as she took the stairs and she went to his room, completely undetected as she did. Then she waited, falling onto his bed and when he came and shut the door, she pulled her hood off, letting her long white hair fall down her back.

He sighed, turning to her and she got up, swiftly moving to embrace him, kissing him as she did. She started slow, leaning against him making his back hit the door and she whimpered against his mouth. He still was a bit stiff and she had to withdraw, sighing.

“Harrald…” she complained. “We’re alone.”

“It’s not that,” he muttered, pushing her gently to the side so he could go to his bed. “Look, Falin, this will have to stop.”

She frowned deeply.

“I don’t like going behind mother as it is. And, this…”

She went to his side, hugging him to get him to stop. “Harrald. A moment ago I was apologizing for making fun of you. We kissed. We were good. Then you brought up your mother,” she said with a sigh. “Look, I understand. What we are doing isn’t exactly going to be encouraged. And you are right. You’re the next heir to Riften.”

He sighed, meeting her eyes and she moved up onto the tips of her toes, her eyes becoming level with his.

“But I really, really like you. And you’re not married or even arranged to be married yet and for a Nord as handsome as you to be alone is just an atrocity,” she said and he scoffed slightly. “I like having fun with you.” She rubbed his arms, feeling his muscle underneath. “I like feeling you.”

He softly sighed. “Falin…”

“I like your cute freckles,” she leaned up, touching her nose against his for a second. “I like your blue eyes.” She had to reach up, holding his neck and she pulled him down slightly so she could kiss his closed eyelids. He flushed a bit.

“Falin.”

“I like how intelligent you are,” she purred, her lips moving to kiss his temples. “I love my fingers getting tangled in your thick, red hair.” She reached up to show him and he leaned into her touch. “I like hearing you breathe,” she said in a softer tone and she pressed against him, her hands moving down to his chest. She tugged at his armor and he opened his eyes, looking down. “I like how you make me feel safe.”

His arms slowly came to wrap around her and she leaned against him, snaking her hands back up to wrap around his neck. She looked into his eyes, biting her lip for a second and he let out a soft breath. “I like… you holding me.”

“Falin,” he muttered and she let out a shaky breath.

“I like when you take control,” she continued, moving slightly up to almost brush her lips against his. “I like it when I’m under you.”

His grip tightened on her and she swallowed, grazing her lips lightly against his in a feather-like touch. “Harrald,” she whispered. “I like you.”

His mouth was against hers first, taking her in and she arched against him, whimpering against his lips. He turned her, hauling her to his bed and she was dropped unceremoniously on it making her let out a yelp of delight. He only withdrew from her to yank her boots off before he was back on her and she squirmed against him, her hands around his neck again.

He pushed her to his bed, his hand running over her covered breasts making her pant and she placed her hands on his chest to make him pause for a second. “Do you want to?” she asked, her lips starting to feel swollen.

“Want to what?”

“You know,” she said, pushing her hips up to meet his. He looked down for a moment before he frowned. He ran his hand over her again making her pant and he stopped when his fingers were against the buckle at the top of her armor. “Harrald?”

He slowly got up making her blink and he moved to his door, locking it making her start to smile before he pulled off his boots. He started on his armor and she eagerly began stripping out of hers, moving to stand to shove her pants down. He folded his up neatly while she kicked hers aside and she moved to press her nearly bare body against his back. He flushed a bit and she giggled, running her fingers over his freckled shoulders and down his arms.

“I really like seeing you naked,” she teased and he snorted a bit.

“Falin,” he sighed. “You’re a brat.”

“A cute brat,” she said, pouting and he smiled, turning to pull her into his arms and she giggled, snuggling against him. He buried a hand into her hair.

“I do wish I could be with you,” he murmured and she frowned.

“You can,” she said, resting her head against the crook of his neck. “Just keep your door unlocked during the night.”

“I didn’t mean like that,” he said. “I meant…” he let out a sigh. She kissed his collar.

“I know,” she said. “But until then, we’re still going to have our fun,” she kissed his collar again. “Now, are you going to keep being sentimental? Because as much as I love it, it is very unlike you, Harrald.”

“Shut up,” he said and she giggled.

“That’s my cute boyfriend.”

“B-Boyfriend?” he stammered and she licked up his neck sending his skin prickling.

“That’s what you are, aren’t you?” she said. “I don’t know the male equivalent of ‘mistress’.”

“Master,” he said annoyed. “I’d be your master.”

“No, that doesn’t sound right,” she teased and he glared at her. “Oh! Maybe it would be manstress!”

He pinched her making her yelp. “Don’t be stupid!”

She nipped at him. “I’m not!” she snapped and he grabbed her, hauling her off the ground making her yelp and he slung her over his shoulder. “H-Harrald!”

He grabbed her smalls, pulling them down making her squirm, her nails scratching his back and he slapped her backside lightly making her gasp. 

“It would be master,” he said, walking to the bed and she once again was tossed on it, his hands pulling her smalls off completely leaving her exposed. She covered her mouth, flushing a bit and he was on her again, his mouth on her neck. She giggled at how he tickled her, squirming as his fingers joined and she was soon withering under him as he teased her.

“H-Harrald!”

“Keep your voice down,” he said, his fingers moving under the fabric wrapped around her chest and he kneaded making her pant. “I really don’t want mother to hear. Or my idiot brother.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes, I really don’t want either one of them seeing us,” she flushed. “A-Although that might put your brother in his place if he did. I am getting tired of him asking if I’m here to mock him.”

“Oh, trust me,” Harrald muttered against her ear, rubbing her chest. “I would love for him to get knocked down a peg. But not like this. He’d go squealing to mother.”

“Can’t have that,” she moaned, tugging the band around her chest up to free herself and he cupped her chest, squeezing slightly making her thighs press together.

“No, we can’t,” he agreed and he tilted her, capturing her mouth again. She gripped his arms, spreading her legs so he could fit between them and she rubbed affectionately against him, moaning into his mouth. She let him take over, slumping against his bed as he controlled their kisses and he tugged at one of her nipples to make her arch, her left leg hooking around his waist.

“H-Harrald…” she whimpered and he smiled, kissing her again. He ran his tongue over hers, soothing her breast as he did and she ran her hands up and down his arms, feeling the heat of his body, his muscles flexing as he moved. The feeling was nice but she wanted something a bit more animalistic and she shifted, curling against him making him lean over a bit. It allowed her to reach down and tug at his loincloth.

“Hn?” he said against her mouth and she tugged again.

“Off.”

He sighed, letting go to get the last of his clothes off and she watched, flushing a bit when she saw his treasure trail widen. He pulled down, exposing himself making her bit her lip in anticipation and he kicked the garment off beside hers before looking back. She tried to hide her smile but it was impossible and he smirked a bit.

“See something you like?”

“Yes,” she said immediately and she shifted, reaching to grab his hips to pull down. He let her, sighing a bit when they met and she rolled her hips against him, her folds rubbing over his semi-erect cock. “You feel so good, Harrald.”

He responded by kissing her again, his hips shifting to rub against her and she reached down, grabbing his backside to squeeze before her hands went up to hook on his shoulders. He slipped a hand beneath her, pulling her waist to his making her hook her other leg around him and he continued rubbing her breast with his other, his tongue meeting her eager one.

They fell into a rather erratic rhythm as she kept squirming when he stroked her just right. She focused on rubbing against him, her head light as he kissed her and he dominated her mouth and chest, constantly switching between teasing her one breast then the other. It was by no means graceful but she didn’t care. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she dragged them down, leaving white lines before they turned red and he groaned against her.

“Harrald, you’re driving me crazy!” she panted against him, bucking against his now fully erect cock. He slid his hand down her side, his fingers running over her curves before he moved to grab at her thigh, holding her steady.

“Do you want-?”

“-Yeah,” she cut right in. “Just do me, honey.” He flushed a deeper red at the name and she grabbed him, kissing him hard. He pulled back making her whine.

“Are you sure?” he said. “You don’t exactly feel, well, ready.”

“Then make me,” she panted, falling against his bed and she opened her legs on him a bit. She felt plenty ready but then he was a bit over cautious on this. She was his first and he wasn’t exactly taught on what to do, save for the gossip he heard in the Keep. He reached between them, his dry fingers sliding over her making her arch and he rubbed her, his cock being pressed against the side of her thigh. She whimpered, her fingers moving to grip the blanket underneath them and she let him take over until his teasing was driving her mad.

She reached down, moving his hand so he stroked her clit directly and he paused before picking up the pace again making her body absolutely tremble. “H-Harrald!” she moaned. “Gods, don’t stop!”

He licked his lips, keeping his steady pace and she could hear how slick she had gotten, his fingers becoming wet and before she came she stopped him, gasping as she did. He frowned. “Something wrong?”

“No,” she panted, cursing herself but it was for a reason. “I’m wet enough! I’m wet enough, Harrald, just take me!”

“Are you sure?” he said cautiously.

“Yes!”

“Because-”

“Harrald, just stick your dick in me!” she snapped, going mad. His ears blazed red at her words but he obeyed and he shoved her down, grabbing her hips to angle them to himself and she grabbed her breasts, squeezing them as she watched. He lined himself up, the head of his cock rubbing her for a second before he moved and began to sink down. Her toes curled and she fell back. She wanted to let out a loud moan but she was still in the keep and she had to settle for reaching up and grabbing him.

“Harrald!” she whined and he frowned until she grabbed his neck, pulling him so she could kiss him, letting her moan out against him. He groaned against her, pushing further in until he was nearly fully inside and he paused, a shudder running down his back. She panted against his mouth.

“Gods-”

“-This is Aetherius,” she finished his sentence, kissing him again. He pressed back, groaning again and she hooked her arms around his neck, deepening their kiss. He buried his hands in her hair, tilting her head back and she clenched around him making him choke.

“Honey, move,” she begged, sucking on his lower lip briefly after. He groaned, pulling to kiss her jaw, moving to her neck and his hips gradually started to thrust. She purred, leaning back and her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them. He was sloppy at first, as she was used to, but as his pace picked up he got into a pleasurable rhythm and she leaned back, enjoying it. He sucked on her neck, leaving marks as he moved and she scraped her nails against his pale skin.

“Falin,” he groaned, his hands moving from her hair down her sides and she squirmed, pressing her body against his. “You feel…”

“I know. You do too,” she moaned, her head becoming light and she began moving her hips with his, her body feeling as if it was pulsing. Her hands roamed, grabbing his backside again to encourage him to thrust more and he braced one hand on his bed, panting against her shoulder for a second before he sucked on her skin once more to make another mark. They became erratic in their movements, hers quick and needy while his were deep and drawn out and eventually she had to stop and just take it, reaching between them to help.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t turning her on but his rubbing before got her so worked up she was beginning to strain for a release. She kissed whatever skin was near her, his head eventually moving up to take her mouth and she rode him, the heels of her feet digging into the back of his thighs and her hand gripping his forearm as she worked herself.

“Harrald!” she cried every time he parted to breathe and he panted.

“Falin,” he groaned. “I love you,” he grabbed her, pulling her into a hug as his pace began to quicken and she withdrew her hand, digging her nails into the nape of his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whined. She whimpered, sucking on his ear.

“I love you,” she said back, her toes beginning to curl and they went quiet, only panting and groaning as they began to reach their peak. They sounded like two grunting animals that were fighting in a confined pen - or trolls, depending on one’s hearing - but it was music to her. She loved hearing him let loose and she struggled to keep quiet herself. She wanted to let her voice sing out so everyone would know it was the Jarl’s handsome son driving her crazy but she kept it down.

He began digging his nails into her skin, sweat forming on the small of his back and she looked down. He was getting close.

“D-Don’t come inside me!” she reminded him last minute and he shook, his hips driving into her hard making stars form in her eyes before he withdrew and she whined. He got off on her stomach, curling against her as he did and she moaned at the feeling. She didn’t like it but it was for the best and she helped him along, kissing every part of his body she could get her mouth to. He hugged her tight, his body clenching and she clung back as if she was going to lose him, her mouth against his ear.

He fell against her leaving her still shaking and starved for an orgasm but she knew she couldn’t complain. He was new at this, she reminded herself. He was new and eventually he’d get the hang of it but her aching body begged to differ and she slumped back, her nerves on end.

He leaned up, his red hair slowly coming loose and she tried not to show her disappointment, kissing him earnestly but he withdrew.

“What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, leaning up a bit and she looked down between them, white come smeared on her tanned stomach. She let out a shaky breath.

“No,” she said, stroking his neck. “Of course not.” He studied her and she flushed a bit before he leaned up further.

“You’re disappointed.”

“I’m not,” she said. She really wasn’t. “It’s just…” she sighed. “I didn’t come.”

He frowned before he realized and he looked between them.

“Maybe I was a little too wet,” she admitted, plucking at his blanket a little sheepish and he moved, sliding back. His hands grabbed her legs, spreading them making her look down and his head went between them. “H-Harrald?”

He began to lick and she tensed. “H-Harrald! Harrald, you don’t have to-!” she was about to say but he rushed her clit and she let out a gasp, arching. He was messy about it, still not used to going down on her but she didn’t care as it was what she needed. She tried not to buck against his tongue but it was a struggle and she ended up grabbing his hair, panting and arching as he brought her back to the brink. Her thighs began to shake, her hips squirming and he flicked his tongue rapidly against her clit until she nearly shouted as she came.

He caught her when she was coming down, his mouth against hers and she let him, falling back against his bed, her hands lazily reaching up to touch him before the fell down. He remained above her, kissing her, his tongue working her exhausted one and she purred at bit as he did making him softly sigh.

“Harrald,” she moaned when he pulled back slightly to breathe.

“Hn?”

She rubbed his arm, his skin as hot as hers and his face just as flushed and exhausted and she couldn’t help but kiss the tip of his nose, moving to his mouth and she angled him, drawing him down. It was slow, both taking their time to enjoy it, his breath steady as he did and she moaned against him, her hand moving to grip his red hair again.

He shifted her legs, fitting perfectly between them and they lazily kissed, not caring if it was messy. He eventually moved onto his side, pulling her with him and she cuddled against him, nipping at his chin for a second before running her tongue over his red lips.

“Falin,” he muttered, his hand stroking her hair and she slipped her leg under his, drawing it closer to her. He responded by hooking one of his over hers so they were tangled together. “I don’t want to leave you.”

She paused, frowning, before she leaned forward to press her forehead against his. “I’m not going to leave you,” she said. “Not now. And like I said, you’re not making little red-haired heirs just yet. We still have time.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“Come on,” she nudged him, pushing him to his bed so she could climb on him, her hands planting on his chest. “When the time comes, we’ll worry about it. For now,” she rubbed his chest, moving to his neck so she could wrap her arms around him. “I’m getting cold. Will you warm me up again?”

He smirked, his hand going to slap her backside and she gasp, jerking against him.

“Harrald!”

“I’ll warm you up,” he said, grabbing her to pull properly into his lap as he leaned up and he kissed the side of her neck that wasn’t marked. “I’ll make you utterly drip with sweat from how hot you’ll get.”

She squirmed on his lap. “Oh my, future Jarl of Riften. That sounds like a challenge,” she giggled and he nipped at her ears making her squeal, the sensitivity shooting through her body. He pushed her down again, her back hitting his bed and she grabbed him, pulling him flush with her body. “But Harrald?”

“Hn?”

She wound her fingers in his hair, pulling at the frayed rope to loosen it so the red strands came free. He flushed a bit and she smiled, her leg moving to rub against his back. “Let’s try and come together this time, alright?”

He flushed a bit making her giggle and she pecked his lips making him sigh.

“As long as you keep it down.”

“I will.”

He pushed her back down. “Then we’ll start round two,” he said making her bubble in excitement, her fingers grabbing at his chest. “Together this time.”

 

 

She found him the next day outside, still with his little dagger stabbing the training dummy. The other guards were watching, their expressions hidden beneath their helmets but she knew they were all grinning as they stared. All of them had long, sharp swords that reflected the sun and the son of the Jarl had a pointy little steel dagger.

She sighed, moving past the guards making them look to her but she ignored it, turning the gift she had in her hands upward so she could hide it behind her back. Some of them looked to her in interest for it. “Harrald,” she said and he stopped, turning to meet her and he pushed his loose hair back as he did.

“Falin,” he said, his eyes moving to the guards. “This isn’t an appropriate time.”

She frowned, sticking out her lower lip. “Harrald, that’s mean!” she said and she brought her hands forward, holding something long wrapped in linen. “After I got you a gift!”

He paused, frowning deeply before he sheathed his dagger and went to her. She smiled bright when he got close.

“You couldn’t give this to me later?” he said in a low tone so the guards wouldn’t hear.

“No,” she said. “You need this now.”

He took the gift from her, his brows fixing as he did and he pulled the tight leather strips off making the linen slide to the ground. He stared, moving to hold the sword properly and he turned it over.

“This is my sword,” he said and he looked to her. She bit her lip so she wouldn’t start giggling our of excitement from seeing his face. “How-? Balimund said-?”

“I asked for a favor,” she grinned. “After… well, yesterday.” He flushed a bit. “And I got your sword back. Fixed right up.”

“Falin,” he muttered, staring at it for a brief minute before his eyes went to meet with hers. She blushed, still trying to hide the wide grin that wanted to cross her face and the corners of his mouth twitched. He looked to the sword, smiling at it and he turned to the training dummy.

One slash and the stitches on the front burst open sending old straw across the ground. One of the guards cursed in shock.

“Damn! That sword could do barely any damage before Balimund had it!”

“That’s because he is the best,” one of the other guards said and Harrald smirked, looking at his blade before he carefully put it away. Falin merely crossed her arms behind her back, watching him as she did and he took the scabbard, tying it to his side before he turned to the guards.

“Well?” he said to them. “Do you all wish to secretly mock me now? Go ahead. Tear the training dummy apart like I did. Whoever does with one strike will get the day off!”

That made the men perk up and they unsheathed their swords, moving to get in a line to earn a day to themselves. He moved past them, Falin following and when they got under the guard walkway, he pulled her to him and kissed her. She melted, grabbing his arms and when he tried to part she didn’t let him. Not until she got another good kiss in.

He let out a breathless sigh. “Falin-”

She shook her head. “Don’t mention it, honey,” she said. “Just keep your door unlocked tonight?”

“What time?”

She shrugged, smiling. “Whenever I can get away. We thieves don’t work on a set schedule.”

“Alright,” he said and she grinned, moving to go but he stopped her one last time, pulling her to him. “I love you,” he muttered against her ear and her heart skipped a beat. She turned, leaning to kiss his jaw, her fingers reaching to stroke his cheek as she did and she giggled against him when she had to part.

“Go show those guards who’s boss, honey,” she winked. He smirked and pulled out his sword.

“Yes, dear,” he said in a non-mocking way and she stifled the giggle she wanted to make and turned, trying to act professional. But she couldn’t help but skip down the stairs. Tonight, she would see him again. After all, she may not have much time left if he was to get arranged to be married but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to see him every day before then.

She moved past the guards, rounding past the Black Briar manor and she paused when she heard his voice yelling from the back yard, his snarky, arrogant side being flashed again.

“Go get ‘em, honey,” she said, giggling slightly at the thought of him acting like a big shot and she went to go back to join her guild, the day still young enough for pockets to be picked and people’s coinpurses to inexplicably go missing.


	5. Dockwork (F!OC/Harrald)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: A woman gets fucked from behind and loves it. Het, femslash, dub-con, non-con, consensual - all of these are good. 
> 
> I chose consensual for once. Anyways, last of Falin's little story here. What I had intended with her was Jarl Laila and her sons getting kicked to Windhelm (Imperial Rule ftw) and because someone was now not in line for a throne, Falin and him could openly fool around. I mean, yeah, Harrald was all wangsty like a five-year-old but he got over it. Eventually.

She found him down by the docks instead of his usual place of fighting with stuffed targets, his red hair standing out against the clouded sky and dark waters of Lake Honrich. He was checking some barrels and crates, the ship owner waiting patiently as he did and she held herself back for once so he could do his job. Not that she would on a regular day but she recognized the crates as materials from the guild and they needed to go out.

“These all seem in order,” Harrald finally said and he looked to the ship captain expectantly. The man sighed, pulled out a bag of coins discreetly and as Harrald moved past him, he took it. “You may leave. Tell any soldiers you come across that I said you were clear to leave. If they harass you, send word. I’ll deal with it.”

“Thank you,” the captain said, moving to load his boat and he continued walking until he spotted her leaning against the side of the Riften Fishery, half shrouded in shadow. She stuck out her tongue making his expression lighten.

“Working today, my future Jarl?” she purred and he smiled a bit, tucking the bag of coins away in his pouch before he moved to usher her along from where she stood, his hand lingering near her backside.

“Falin,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She giggled. “Anuriel told me to go look for you outside. Here I thought you’d be training,” she looked over her shoulder to eye his body. “Not down here.”

He smiled a bit. “I got word your organization was moving some goods and needed an official signature to have them get released into the other provinces.”

She turned on her heel, walking backwards a bit until he stopped and she moved to wrap her arms around his neck making him raise a brow. “So you’re helping us out? My, honey, that is generous.” She purposely moved to press herself against him making him smirk a bit. “If there’s anything the guild can do to repay you…”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll get adequate compensation for this,” he said, leaning down a bit and she couldn’t help but giggle before she leaned up on the tips of her toes and kissed him. He smiled against her and she bubbled a bit, nipping at his bottom lip, her fingers moving down to grip his arms and she cuddled herself against him. Oh, how she loved her adorable Nordic lover.

He pulled back a bit making her fake pout. “Falin,” he said. “You are irresistible.”

“As are you, Harrald,” she smirked, her fingers walking up his arms back up to his neck and before they could continue, they heard footsteps on the boards. She looked past him, seeing the weird Argonian who constantly muttered to herself about phantoms turning the bend to come their way and she pulled back, moving to his side. He looked with a frown and she took his wrist. “Come on,” she said. “We should go somewhere more private.”

His eyes met hers and she smiled, raising her brows suggestively and he did grin but it wasn’t for long. He followed her back towards the entrance to the city, the water-rotted boards under them groaning but he didn’t take her bait when she suggestively began moving up the stairs. “Falin, I need to get back to training my men.”

She pouted for real this time at his words. “What? Aren’t they trained enough?”

“Hardly,” he said. “A skeever could beat them in a battle.”

“Skeevers can be tough,” she said, crossing her arms as she remembered the nest that had been in the Ratway Warrens. “Don’t underestimate them!”

“Falin…”

“Harrald,” she whined and she went back to his side, moving to wrap her arms around him and she stood on his toes making him grunt. “Come on. It’s been a week since we’ve fooled around and I’m aching for you.”

He flushed a bit at her bluntness. “I-I have duties, you know.”

She puffed up her cheeks. “Your duties aren’t that numerous,” she said. “You can sneak in riding me like the champion stud you are.” His freckles were highlighted with how pink his face went at her words and she pressed against him to emphasize her point. “Come on, Harrald. I’m practically in heat for you!”

He shifted, uncomfortable. “Falin, I want to but-”

“Then do it!” she said. “You’re the son of a Jarl! If you want to treat a girl with your lovely, thick cock, then do it! You can do as you please! Or are you afraid your guards will complain?”

“Yes!” he snapped and she rolled her eyes.

“They work under you, Harrald! Not over! And if they complain, remind them you are royalty!”

He still shifted in discomfort. “It doesn’t work like that, you know that!”

“Well, it should!” she said, tugging at his armor. “You are born with royal blood, Harrald. You should be treated like the other royals of this province. And that means discretion if you wish to relieve yourself.”

He flushed.

“The other Jarls do it,” she complained and he let out a sigh. He touched her side making her lean into his hand, trying her best to give him an innocent yet desperate look and he cracked a bit. But he pulled back making her pout.

“My mother-”

“Won’t know,” she said, her hand moving down to grab him through his armor. He hissed, his hands moving to grip her forearms tight making her smile and she rubbed him in a slow, steady motion. “I promise she won’t find out.”

“Falin-!”

She squeezed him and it cut off whatever he wanted to say. He shook for a second and she could feel him responding. He wanted it and she shifted, feeling how hot she was getting herself.

“Come on, my big Nord stud,” she teased. “I’m dripping for you through my clothes.”

He sighed, tensing when she leaned up to kiss his neck, her tongue licking under his adam’s apple and finally he relented. “You get no more than ten minutes,” he said. “Then I need to get back to training the guards.”

She grinned, moving back though her hands snaked down to hold his wrist and she pulled him forward making him stagger but press against her. She wiggled against him making him grunt. “Ten minutes is all I need. Besides, you said it yourself. The guild should compensate you for being so generous. And what better way than riding one of their cute members?”

He flushed a bit. “Falin…”

She cut him off. “So, where do you want to do it? In your room? Or right here?”

He didn’t immediately respond, his eyes moving down to look at her in slight embarrassment making her giggle and he finally looked around. He turned back towards the docks, surveying the decrepit, sinking area and his eyes went to the old warehouse.

“T-There,” he said. “No one goes in there and we can be quick.”

“The old warehouse?” she frowned and he opened his pouch, digging around before he pulled out a few keys and he sorted through them. She shrugged. Whatever. As long as she got him. “Alright. Then come on, big boy. Fuck me like one of Maven’s prized stallions in there.”

He nearly dropped his keys at her words but he held it together and she brushed past him, skipping a bit as she went towards it. He followed behind, checking over his shoulder as he did, ignoring the Argonian still wandering around the Fishery muttering to herself and he came to her side. She tugged him along, undoing her buckles as she did and when they got to the door she flashed him making his eyes widen.

“Come on, Harrald,” she smirked. “If I only have ten minutes, I want to get right to it.”

He swallowed and tried the door. The first key didn’t work, neither did the second, but he had luck on the third and he opened the door, holding it so she could go inside first. She smirked, sliding against him and he looked over his shoulder one last time before he closed the door behind him. She was on him before he could even lock it, her mouth against his neck and he stuffed his keys away, gasping for air when she grabbed him.

She didn’t let him have a moment to rest before she was on her knees and pulling his belt off, tugging at his trousers and undergarments. “F-Falin!”

She met his semi-erect cock with a smile and her mouth slid over the shaft, savoring the taste. He groaned, her eyes opening to look up at him and he let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to press against the door behind him. She giggled, moving up to slide him into her mouth, sucking gently on his hardening flesh and she pulled back her hood to let her white hair fall out. He paused and she flipped her hair back, smiling as she let him fall almost out of her mouth, the tip being held on her tongue.

“You can grab my hair,” she said and he shifted slightly. “I don’t mind when you do.”

He didn’t act and she smiled but continued, swallowing his cock again in one slow motion, her tongue rubbing the underside. She coaxed him a bit with her hand, her fingernails running down his thigh to feel his muscles flex under her touch and he finally grabbed the back of her head. She purred against him, moving back so his cock began slipping out of her mouth and he applied a bit of pressure. She did as he wanted, swallowing him up and she made him show her how fast he wanted her to go. After all, it was no fun doing these things by herself.

It didn’t take long for him to start panting, his stomach taunt as he did and she grinned, massaging the dark red hair surrounding the base of his cock. Her hand slipped down, adding a bit of pressure to his sack but he let out a whine of discomfort at the motion and she left him. He was still too sensitive there and she sighed, focusing on his cock. She really needed to find some sort of numbing potion for him. Or build up his tolerance. One of the two because she was an expert on teasing a man’s balls and she really wanted to show him one day.

Regardless, she moved on his cock until he grabbed her head with both hands, his fingers clutching her hair tight in desperation and she pulled off, panting as she did making him flush.

“Easy honey,” she said and he flushed in embarrassment. “I want you to still be able to pound me into the floor here. And your stamina isn’t at the point where you can come more than once and be able to go again.”

He frowned deeply. “Falin, I can-”

“It’s alright,” she soothed him and she got up off her knees, pulling her buckles to let her armor fall off her body and she quickly discarded her pants with it, standing nearly naked before him. She giggled when his eyes moved over her body almost hungrily. “We’ll get to that point. But for now, we have a time limit. And I want to spend most of that on my knees for you.”

He turned red, almost matching his hair making her giggle more and she moved to press against him, helping him out of his armor. “Come on, my big Nord stud. Off with these.”

“Right,” he said, letting her work and he kept reaching to feel her skin making her ticklish. He raised a brow, prodding at her side and she pushed his hand away, trying to focus on getting the damned studded armor off him. He poked again.

“Harrald!”

“What?” he said almost innocently making her glare at him. “Oh, you don’t like that?” he tickled her and she yelped, nearly breaking a nail on a clasp. “Funny, I never remember you being ticklish there before.”

She lightly slapped him. “Don’t be a brat!”

“Me?” he said. “Falin, you are the definition of a brat!”

“Am not,” she fake pouted.

“You are so,” he said, raising a brow and when she got the last clasp undone, his armor finally coming off he gave her a second before he grabbed her, his hands on her side making her squeal.

“Harrald!” she shrieked, unable to hold in her laughs and he tormented her until she broke free. Then he chased her making her yelp and she ran from him, still laughing as she did, her feet light on the floorboards. “Stop it!” she yelped when he got too close to her. “I’ll smother you in your sleep!”

“You will not,” he smirked, chasing her into a corner and she turned to face him, her hands up defensively and he smirked. “That’s a very bad defensive stance.”

She tried hard not to laugh, struggling to be serious. “I can still kick you where it matters.”

He raised a brow. “And that’s how you assume you’ll get away from fights? Kicking men where it hurts?”

“It works,” she said, biting her lip as he drew near and she couldn’t help but giggle. He moved to the right making her act, her hands coming forward and he swiftly dodged to the left, his arm grabbing her side. She shouted, kicking a bit as his hands tickled her relentlessly and she lightly fought him, wriggling against him hard as she did. “Harrald! Harrald, stop! I’m going to die!” she shrieked when he went under her arms. “Harrald! Not there! I’ll die!”

He snickered against her ear, pulling her down making her knees hit the boards and he gripped her tight against him, his hand moving down towards her underwear. He tugged it, his fingers slipping in and she squirmed as he dragged his nails down her sensitive skin.

“Harrald!” she half giggled, half moaned and he kissed the back of her neck, his other hand moving from under her arm to grab her breast. Her chest was rising still from being chased, sweat forming on parts of her skin and she ground her hips against his backside as he slipped his fingers against her, spreading her folds. She spread her legs, panting as he moved to sucking on the space between her collar and neck and he began fingering her, purposely teasing her clit as she did.

“Harrald,” she whined. “I-I’ll die…” she rolled her back against him, feeling his cock against her thigh. “I need it.”

He kissed her shoulder. “You won’t die,” he said, pushing her white hair over her shoulder and he nipped at her shoulderblade, moving to loom over her more and she fell down, bracing herself on her hands. She spread her legs more, panting as he squeezed her left breast rather hard and he moved his fingers against her folds a bit rougher making her ache.

She let her head hang down, looking between her legs and breasts at his hand moving and she rocked against it. “Harrald,” she moaned. “Mount me already!”

He responded by grabbing her smalls and yanking them down more, the fabric stretching hard against her skin as they weren’t exactly flexible and she squirmed, trying to tug them down to at least her knees when he withdrew. She leaned up, looking over her shoulder and he grabbed her underwear with both hands to yank them off. She raised her knees one at a time so he could and once they were off completely he tossed them by her gear. He spread her, his fingers pressing against her for a moment making her moan and she leaned down, raising her rear up for him.

“Are you ready enough?” he asked cautiously and she giggled a bit. Always the worrier, he was. She wiggled her backside at him.

“Do I have to be dripping all over the floor before you think I am?”

She could tell he flushed at her statement. “…W-Well…”

“I’m fine Harrald,” she rolled her eyes. “The more friction, the better. Now mount me, big boy! I’m presenting myself to you! You should be balls deep in me already!”

He sighed. “Falin,” he muttered and she giggled as she heard him utter something along the lines of her being a brat. She swayed her rear more.

“Fuck me, future Jarl of Riften!”

For once he didn’t delay and she gasped when he grabbed her backside rather roughly, the head of his cock pressing against her and she immediately spread herself, trying to draw him in. He sunk in at first, his fingers shaking and she moaned, arching her back. He slipped out by accident making him curse and her wait patiently until he held himself steady and pushed in. He crawled up her, his hands trying to find a grip and she took them, wrapping them around her waist just under her breasts as he pushed in fully. His forehead hit her shoulder and she bit her lip, clenching around him making him choke before she settled and she held up their weight on her hands and knees.

He felt bigger in that position and it made her squirm a bit in anticipation. “Good boy, Harrald,” she moaned and he growled, nipping at her shoulder making her gasp, flinching a bit. His mouth moved up to her neck and he grabbed her white hair, pulling it a bit roughly making her head move back and she moaned.

“Don’t patronize me,” he said and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“I wasn’t,” she said, clenching around him again making him grunt. “I was merely complimenting you and…” she bucked back against him on purpose making him groan loudly. “…your studly Nord cock.”

“You are such a brat,” he groaned against her ear making her skin prickle and she wriggled her rear against his hips.

“And you love it,” she teased making him smirk and he leaned up, giving her backside a good slap causing her to yelp in surprise before he began moving. He grabbed her breasts, squeezing them for a moment eliciting a giggle from her before he quickened his pace to a steady rhythm that made her knees weak. She moved back against him, staring at the wall of the warehouse as she did and she imagined what he must have looked like behind her. His cheeks must be flushed, his red hair starting to pull out of the string that tied it back and his arms flexing as he grabbed her.

She moaned, her nails scratching the boards and she closed her eyes, thrusting against the future Jarl of Riften. He felt so big and thicker than usual in her and she almost wished she had gotten worked up to the point where she had dripped on the floor for him. He was getting her excited and she let out a series of appreciative moans and purrs as he moved, making sure he knew what he was doing to her.

He responded by quickening his pace, his breaths soon coming out in pants and he pressed his weight against her, letting go of her chest to hug her to him. She moaned at the action and held them up as he thrust into her. It wasn’t exactly the dirty, fast sessions they usually had but the position made it feel like it was, as if they were animals in heat needing release. She lowered her body down a bit, bracing herself on her forearms as her knees spread and she gave short bucks against his long strokes, the sounds of them fucking soon becoming drowned out by their collective panting.

She began to sweat, her lips becoming dry making her lick them and she leaned her head down to press her forehead against the boards making her a bit light headed but when she looked between herself, she could see his balls moving as he thrust, his feet struggling to keep their stance on the floor and she moaned, clenching around him making him choke again.

“Harrald,” she whined. “Do me harder!”

He hesitated but picked up his pace, readjusting again and he was forced to give shallow thrusts but she didn’t mind. It made more friction, her clit aching and her insides spasming a bit from the action and she let out more moans, becoming louder than she normally was. His nails dug into her skin under her breasts and she reached for one of his hands, pushing it down towards her clit. He didn’t seem to understand.

“Rub,” she said, instructing him. “Rub at the same time, Harrald!” she pleaded and he clumsily tried to, his fingers unable to pick up the same rhythm as his hips and she braced herself on one arm as she reached to help him.

The added sensation made her start to lose it and she bucked against him, her toes curling and a familiar, pleasant sensation teased the back of her mind. She let it take over her, no longer thinking comprehensive thoughts and she mindlessly thrust back against her lover, her hand moving his against her clit to help bring her to the edge. He quickened his pace again, thrusting almost erratically as he began riding her as if she was a bitch in heat, his groans strained in his throat.

“F-Fuck me,” she begged, staring at the wall as she began rapidly moving towards her orgasm. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

He groaned, pulling his hand away from her clit making her jerk and he pulled her hard to him, his mouth finding her shoulder to bite as he did as she asked. She yelped as he pushed her down, her knees almost buckling as he pounded her body hard making stars form in her eyes and her body tense. He struggled on her, his teeth scraping against her skin and quickly pulled out before he came inside her, spilling against her thigh with a strangled groan, his body shaking. She panted, tense and unsatisfied, her nails dragging on the boards and when he finally finished he half collapsed on her, letting go of her shoulder.

“Gods,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against her burning skin and she flushed deeply, staring at the wall. Once again, she didn’t come and she flopped down on the floor, letting him slightly roll off, her skin on fire. He kissed her shoulder, moving to her other and she let out a soft sigh in frustration.

He picked up on it. “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip, still staring at the wall and he frowned until he leaned up.

“You didn’t come, did you?”

“No,” she sighed. He looked between her legs. “It’s fine, Harrald, I-”

He pulled them apart, moving down making her flush and he rolled her on her back, his fingers touching her puffy, throbbing lower lips first and she jerked. His tongue joined them, messily licking her making her squirm and her frustration melted when he found her clit, his mouth sucking on it directly causing her to thrash.

“H-Harrald!” she yelped. “Harrald, that’s sensitive!” She kicked out, her voice turning into high pitched yells as he stimulated her directly making her mind go into what felt like an overload of thoughts. She yelled, grabbing at his body to try and make him stop and continue at the same time, her hair beginning to stick to her neck and when she came it was a dry orgasm, her body spasming and her voice coming out in a cry that sounded like an animal dying. She arched her back painfully, her thighs pressing against his neck and when she came down she collapsed on the floor panting hard.

He leaned up, licking his lips before he rubbed his neck and looked to her, flushing a bit. “Sorry for coming first.”

She couldn’t even answer. She only made a moan, her head still light and he nudged her, crawling back so he faced her and she turned on her side, her legs feeling like they were netch jelly.

“Falin?”

She slapped his thigh making him jump. “Brat.”

“Me?” he spat and she had to grin. He furrowed his brow and turned, slapping her backside hard making her jump.

“Harrald!” she said in shock and he looked at her.

“Now we’re even.”

“Even?” she said, her mind coming back and she leaned up, glaring at him. She moved, pushing him down a bit so he had to brace himself on his hands and she slapped his ass hard, her brows raising at the sight of him tensing. Oh, she liked that.

He retaliated by spanking her back but his fingers moved to under arms making her shriek as he tried to tickle her again.

“Harrald!”

“You’re the brat!” he said and she pushed him, trying to slap his backside again in revenge - though, mostly to just watch his ass get red - and he caught her leg, pulling her making her squawk as she exposed herself to him. They tumbled a bit, fighting lightly on the boards and she lost as he pinned her down on her stomach, sitting on her legs as she squirmed.

“Harrald, you big snow whale, get off me!” she said, wriggling under him. He spanked her again making her yelp before his fingers went down and pressed into her to make her toes curl. He sunk them in, stirring up her flesh in a way that made her pant hard, her insides clenching around him and he began to finger her. “Harrald!”

He leaned down, nipping at her spine, his free hand kneading her ass and she bucked against him, her tongue hanging out of her mouth for a moment when he pulled out to play with her sore clit and he slapped her backside again.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he said and she whined. “I have to get back to my guards.”

She looked at him from over her shoulder. “Y-You’re just going to leave me like this?”

He flushed a bit. “No,” he admitted, reaching under her to make her push her lower body up by her knees. “No, I want to show you I can go again. My stamina isn’t that low.”

She bit her lip as he spread her, the tip of his cock hitting her again and she arched her back, spreading her legs.

“You’re going to mount me again?” she moaned and he thrust in as an answer. She curled her toes and squeezed around his cock making him grunt. “My big Nord stud…”

“Damn right,” he groaned, his mouth hitting the back of her neck and he applied a bit of pressure making her pant. “Once more. And I’ll be sure to make you come when I’m inside you this time.”

“Please do,” she moaned, her white hair falling to pool against the floor and he tilted her head, struggling to kiss her from behind. It was something they were going to have to work on but she didn’t mind. She only wished they had more time to do so. After all, if they did, she would have taken control from the bottom. But of course, they were limited, and she had to let herself be fucked like she was a common whore in the Bee and Barb.

He almost made good on his promise. Almost. But he still didn’t understand how much pressure to apply to her clit and she ended up grabbing his hand to get herself off once he came on the warehouse floor, riding it until she saw stars and his name escaped her lips.

But he did wait for her to dress after, even though bending turned out to be a bad idea.

“You didn’t have to spank me that hard,” she complained as he had to help get her pants up. He flushed a bit.

“Sorry.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Next time I get to spank you until you can’t properly bend!”

His ears went red. “You’re… joking.”

She turned on him. “Nope!”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping and she couldn’t help but giggle, pulling at his arm so he had to turn towards her. She kissed his cheek making him fuss a bit.

“Oh, come on Harrald? You don’t like the idea of me dominating you for a night?” she asked, nipping at his ear which made him shift, his eyes on the door. “Me spanking you. Controlling when you get to come.” She gasped a bit at a realization. “Tying you to your bed and riding your cock for hours!”

“F-Falin,” he said. “I need to go train my guards.”

She reached down and squeezed his ass making him tense and she smiled at the feeling. “I know, honey. I’m just leaving you with some thoughts for when we next meet.”

He looked to her, flushing and she couldn’t help but kiss him at how adorable he looked, his numerous freckles a dark red against his snowberry cheeks. He resisted at first until she got his tongue then he finally relented, pulling her into his arms, his strong hands pressing against her back. She moaned, gripping his neck, her own cheeks beginning to get a bit hot and when they parted, both of them panted at the same time. She couldn’t help but giggle, pressing her teeth against her swollen bottom lip.

“You are a brat,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“But I’m your brat, right?” she teased and he smiled.

“Yeah. You’re mine.” She giggled at his words. “Now come on. I really, really need to get to work.”

“Of course, my future Jarl,” she purred, waiting for him to unlock the door before she slipped outside. She waited for him, watching him lock the warehouse, before she strode ahead, making sure she walked in a way that would entice him despite her rear throbbing as she did. He noticed, his eyes moving down and she giggled, pulling her hood up more to block the sun from her eyes as she took the steps back up to the city.

“Have fun with your guards, honey,” she said as she pushed the door open, moving to go to the market and he gave her a smirk as he began moving towards Mistveil Keep. “And don’t lock your door tonight, alright?”

He flushed a bit but didn’t respond and she giggled before she ran towards the old tombstone in the graveyard to disappear into the guild. She would report his success, soothe her bottom, then get ready to see her lover that night. After all, he did deserve compensation for helping them and she honestly wanted to give it to him. A nice long reward that hopefully got her back on her knees.


	6. Break of Dawn (F!DB, Serana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Aldmeri war crimes anyone? They totally seem like the type to massacre villages and cities, what with the whole racial superiority thing. I want a dark fic. Something grotesque and disturbing with plenty-o-mutilation and looting. Think "The Rape of Nanking" with British elves instead of Japanese soldiers. 
> 
> No one ever saw me write this. But I did. I had a F!DB named Ishzara who was the Dragonborn, hated the Thalmor, hated vampires (but she wanted to help Serana), and was in a relationship with Ysolda. But this was as far as it got.

She had come across the ruins at dawn when the air was still chilled but the sun was rising leaving the entire plains half basked in gold while the shadowed areas were dark and foggy. It was a farm, not a large farm, but a decent sized one that seemed to have helped supplying either Whiterun or Falkreath. There were two homes right across from each other and a well-stocked stable full of hay for the animals.

These farmers clearly cared for their beasts but now it didn’t matter. All the cows were slaughtered, feathers floating gently in the breeze from the dead chickens and the horse that had possibly been there was gone. She pursed her lips at the sight of the livestock. They shouldn’t have died.

In the middle of the yard where there was corn spread for the chickens were the bodies. Seven in total, all laid out in a perfect line and each was missing a head. The youngest, who looked about fourteen, seemed particularly brutalized. The bruises on her pale, naked skin seemed to glow under the dark shadows that was cast from the mountains and the eldest woman had clearly been raped by means that were not flesh.

She could not imagine what had went on, these simple people trying to live being attacked in such a way.

Smoke was coming from the roof of the one house, the door open and everything inside destroyed. Pots were on the floor, vases were broken and vegetables, meat, and milk were spilled all over. She peeked inside but did not go in as the rafters looked weak from the fire and could collapse.

She turned to her companion who was staring, almost disgusted. “Vampires?” she asked and Serana shook her head.

“No. Even vampires live by a moral code,” she said. “We kill and then feast. We do not kill just for pleasure unless provoked. And we certainly do not take heads. We take the entire body.”

Ishzara nodded and she pursed her lips. She went to the other home checking the door but it was locked. She let it be, not wishing to go inside when noises in the tundra drew her eyes up. She looked to Serana who tensed with her and they walked away from the massacred farm. Not far from it they found the source of the noises; three Thalmor Agents were laughing over a naked hunched form.

Ishzara pulled her warhammer from her back and Serana’s hands danced with magic. When the Thalmor mage laughed, speaking to his colleagues quietly before they raised their swords, she acted. She covered the distance in a second and the spike on the back of her hammer tore into the back of the Thalmor.

He screamed and the soldiers turned. 

“Run!” Ishzara shouted at the naked woman but the girl didn’t move, her body dirty and bleeding and her eyes frightened. She growled and had to take care of the rest. Serana took one soldier, his screams making her smile and she took the other, ignoring his slashes at her armor as the blunt end of her weapon connected with his head.

He went down and she swung the hammer up before it crushed the soldier’s head. Blood covered the plains and her boots and she snorted in return. Behind her the other soldier fell to the vampire’s hands, his life drained away until his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Everything was quiet again, save for the hooting of owls near the mountains and the sounds of elk calling to each other.

Ishzara turned back to the naked girl and she pulled off the bottom of her armor, tossing the studded wear around the girl’s shoulders. She shook and sobbed quietly. “What happened here?”

The girl shook her head and she sighed as she looked to Serana who frowned and came to her side, trying to help. “You’ll be alright, ssh. They’re dead now.”

She shook her head again. “T-They killed my family! T-They… They raped my sister and mother!” She sobbed and Ishzara sighed, rubbing her back.

“I’m sure they’re in Oblivion now getting the same treatment,” she tried and the girl stopped crying and she looked at her, angry, her lip quivering but her eyes wild. She stared, unsure but the girl began to speak again.

“I-I don’t want just them to go to Oblivion,” she said in a shaking voice. “I want them all! All of them! I want every Thalmor to burn in those planes! I want them all dead just as my family is!”

Ishzara sighed and helped her to her feet. “Come, let’s bury your family and give them proper rites,” she said softly as the girl continued to cry only with angry tears now. “Then, we’ll get you your revenge. After all, that’s what we do best.”

“W-Who?” she asked and Ishzara pointed to herself and Serana.

“The Dragonborn and the daughter of Coldharbour. Vampire, Thalmor and Dragur slayers at your service.”


	7. Floorboards (F!OC/Ungrien)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I'd like to see anyone, DB/NPC/PC having non-penetrative sex with someone. Frottage, Intercrural Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, etc. 
> 
> This isn't any named OC. In fact, I purposely wrote this with the idea to keep the female vague so that if I ever did create a new character in Skyrim, she MAY get placed here. Naturally, that isn't going to happen now so just pick what you want the girl to be. Besides, Ungrien needed love.

He was a good worker, despite what anyone said. Though he was treated like he was diseased by most of Riften and tormented by that bastard Indaryn, he worked hard. He practiced his lines to himself on his break, cleaning as much as he could around the front of the meadery. When there were mice crawling in the walls, he was the one who caught them and set them free outside Riften, using his own pay on the sweetrolls and goat cheese slices to lure them. During the winter, he cleared the snow in front of the door. During the summer, he stayed in full uniform despite how uncomfortable he got. He was a good worker.

Yet, despite all this, he was treated like he was some stupid child, not even given the courtesy of being told why his pay was cut. He was just given the lines ‘if you keep complaining, you will be swimming with the slaughterfish in Lake Honrich’ to make him shut up and he had no choice but to do so.

He constantly watched his wages go down, his hours get longer, and his suffering get harder. Once, Indaryn had thrown a bottle at him. If it had hit him, his nose surely would have been broken. But despite all this, he couldn’t quit or leave putting him in the position of having to accept it. He wanted out but he had no way of doing so and he resigned to being a pawn of the powerful Black-Briars, a name he had come to despise along with Indaryn.

He prayed to the gods to give him relief. Anything to help with his suffering. Lest it be a simple slip telling him he could go or a devastating catastrophe that would kill him, he didn’t care. Just something to give him relief from this life.

And the gods did answer. But not in the way he expected.

 

—

 

It was almost time for him to close, both Indaryn, his wife, and the employees all having left. He was told to stay and man the bar.

“If anyone comes in here, you serve them right up until the time the Bee and Barb closes,” Indaryn had said. He frowned.

“But…” he began and he immediately stopped when the dunmer glared at him. “Y-Yes’sir.”

Indaryn snorted, obviously not liking his initial protest but he left him, throwing on his furs as he went to his wife. She joined him in leaving, both not caring how the door slammed behind them and he was left alone, sighing. No one would come in to the Meadery. Everyone went to the Bee and Barb at night because they advertised they sold Black-Briar mead straight from the tap just like they did. It was pointless but he had no choice but to obey.

He set himself up for a long night of daydreaming with the occasional bout of cleaning. After all, there wasn’t much else to do. He pulled out a cloth, folding it over as he began to wipe the mead-stained wood and his lids fell down as he started to imagine his life somewhere else. This time he picked on Cyrodiil. How wonderful the place seemed in comparison to Riften.

It was nearing midnight when the door opened and he snapped from his dreams, ready to greet Indaryn back but the figure that entered was no dunmer.

“C-Can I help you?” he said at first, uncertain of the stranger before he remembered himself. He had to say his lines. “T-This is the Black-Briar Meadery! It holds the finest mead in all of Tamriel!”

The figure came forward, pulling back her hood and she frowned at him making him struggle to keep a smile. She looked around, seemingly displeased before her eyes met his.

“I suppose you don’t have any beds for rent, do you?”

He blinked. “N… No,” he said. “We’re not an Inn.”

“Damn,” she cursed, folding her arms. “Everywhere in this stupid city is full! Do they expect me to go sleep with the horses?”

He honestly wanted to reply with a yes but he held it in, focusing instead on selling the Black-Briar name.

“We don’t have rooms, but we have mead,” he said. “The best mead in Tamriel.” Her eyes met his making him waver a little but he held his smile. “One taste and you’ll be hooked.”

“Pass,” she said, tapping her fingers on her arm as she looked around. “I’ve got a bunch of mead in my pack already. Don’t really need anymore, especially if I don’t have a place to sleep.”

His smile went a bit thin. Well, they weren’t an Inn and he frankly didn’t know what else to say. He stood awkwardly at the counter, hoping the girl would leave but instead she began surveying the place. Her eyes moved to him and he tried to look pleasant.

“Are you here by yourself?” she said and he flushed a bit.

“I am…” he admitted and she looked him over making him shift. He really hope she didn’t cause any trouble and his eyes moved to the door. For once he actually hoped his boss would damn well walk in. Instead, the girl went to sit down at one of the stool’s making him straighten and focus on her. She let her pack slip from her shoulders, the heavy bag hitting the floor and she smiled at him.

“Do people really come here to drink instead of in that inn?” she asked and he frowned. “Seems strange. I never really thought about drinking in a meadery before. This feels more like a place you buy a few bottles and go home.”

He said nothing for a minute. He didn’t really know how to respond. He usually just rehearsed his given lines and improvised on them. He didn’t really want to give his actual thoughts in case Maven came in and heard so he just stood, quiet. She tilted her head.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

He frowned. “I do,” he said defensively. “I just… I’m working,” he said. “And if you want mead, you are in the right place. Other than that, I can’t help you.”

She raised a brow, her eyes moving over him and he flushed a bit, becoming self-conscious. Her fingers tapped on the wood.

“You know,” she said. “I didn’t expect a Bosmer to be working a Meadery.”

He looked at her. “Why not?” he blurted out before he stiffened, realizing his place. She grinned, her eyes roaming over him making him uncomfortable.

“I thought Bosmer weren’t allowed to work with things that draw from the earth,” she said. “Like honey. And all this wood being burned to keep it boiling.”

He flushed a bit. “Outside of Valenwood, we don’t care what happens,” he said. “Besides, I don’t follow the Green Pact. So why would I care if I worked in a Meadery?”

She shrugged and he found himself getting a bit annoyed. He wanted to tell her to go away, to leave so he could get back to his duty of doing nothing until his boss came home but she didn’t and she instead leaned over the counter.

“Do you like working here?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said automatically making her raise a brow. “The Black-Briars are the best employers in the province. Why wouldn’t I like being here?”

She shrugged, her eyes still playfully looking at him making him shift again and she fluffed her hair, pretending to look away but he saw her eyes go down. “You just seem very tense, is all.”

“It’s very late,” he lied.

“Oh, you’re tired?”

“No,” he said and she raised her brow again making him flush. He finally couldn’t take it, ready to tell her to leave when she got up herself making him pause. She moved her knapsack, stretching a bit before she started to walk to the edge of the counter, sliding behind it. “H-Hey, you can’t come back here,” he said automatically. She did so anyway.

“You’re very cute,” she said, sliding to lean against the counter and he glared at her, becoming flustered and annoyed. “When does your boss usually show up?”

“Any minute,” he said in a rude tone. “So, I suggest you go back around the counter and leave. No one is allowed back here that isn’t an employee.”

She shrugged, smiling a bit. “How long do you have to work?”

“Why?” he said rudely and she giggled a bit. She reached up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear and her fingers tapped on the wood.

“You are just really tense,” she said, moving towards him and he frowned. “I can help with that.”

“I’m fine,” he said bluntly. “And you need to leave.”

“Oh, come on,” she purred. “You work for the Black-Briars. I’ve met them. They’re horrible,” she said and he paused for a second at her words. She lit up when she saw that and he flushed.

“M-Maven Black-Briar and her family-” he started but she shook her head, moving to press against him making him stumble and she slipped a finger against his lips, shushing softly.

“It’s alright,” she said. “You don’t have to lie.” His ears went red in embarrassment. Was he that bad still? “I get it. I understand why you’re here.”

He furrowed his brows and she smiled, biting her lip for a second before her hand moved down from his lips, sliding over his chest with a firm grip before it started going lower. He stiffened.

“H-Hey-!” he began but she shushed him, her hand moving to grab him through his clothes making his entire body go rigid.

“I’ll help you out,” she purred, moving to go on her knees and he stared at her, not believing this was happening. She had come in a few minutes ago, now she was kneeling before him and when she reached up to pull on his belt, he stopped her.

“T-This-!” he tried, not knowing what to say and she gave him a grin.

“Relax,” she said. “You need this. I can see it.”

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat and he tried to push her off but her hands swept over him making him forget for a second where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. She teased his cock through his pants until he snapped back.

“M-My boss-!” he said, stiffening as she pushed him against the cupboard for support and she grinned at him, her hair falling over her shoulders.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” she said making him hesitate. It didn’t matter how quick she was, if Indaryn knew he would be killed. She gripped him through his pants again making his body tense. Gods, she had strength. She rubbed him gently, her fingers making his head light and she stopped only to pull his trousers down.

She had gotten him almost hard from a bit of stimulation and he turned red. This was bad. She smiled at the sight of his cock, her warm hands taking him into her palm and she held him erect making him shiver.

“Wow, you’re very impressive for a Bosmer,” she said. “Usually I never see one above five inches.”

He exhaled, his eyes on her and how she was holding him. He could have come right there but he held himself back. “T-Thanks?”

She giggled a bit, measuring him on her arm. “Oh, I’d say you’re a nice five inches and a half,” she said. “The ladies must just adore you.”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t have any ladies. He barely touched himself these days and when he realized what she was going to do, he began breathing hard. She ignored him - or so he assumed - and held him out to her so she could lick the tip of his cock.

The sensation made him quickly reach behind him to grab the cupboard, his body tensing. Her tiny lick felt way better than his hand ever did and he fell back. She caught him, making him brace himself on the shelf.

“Not used to this?” she asked and he flushed. “It’s alright. Just hold yourself up, okay? Unless you want me to suck you off while you lay on the floor.”

He groaned at the mere thought but he pulled himself back. This was serious. “M-My boss…” he began. “He… He might come back anytime.”

She looked up, raising a brow. “So, you want me to be very quick?” she said and he flushed. He really meant this wasn’t what they should be doing since they could be caught but she took it her way. She wasted no time in going down on him and he jerked against the cupboard, gasping at the hot warmth of her mouth.

She slid down his length a bit, her hand guiding her and she loudly sucked, her head bobbing for a minute making his toes curl at the softness of her mouth. She pulled back to kiss the crown of his cock, licking down his shaft and her eyes moved up to look at him as she held his cock in a firm grip, squeezing it while her tongue moved below to his balls. He could only watch in half-fascinating and half-fear, his fingers gripping the cupboard tight. Her tongue began to tickle him making him shift, nearly letting out a laugh but it died when she took his sack into her mouth.

“T-That’s sensitive-!” he tried to say as she sucked making him nearly collapse and he let out a horrid, desperate moan as her hand moved, jerking him off while she teased him. By his ancestors, the feeling was heavenly. He still looked to the door in fear, knowing if Indaryn saw him he would be a dead man for sure but she was melting away his stress with her mouth. She tongued him, even slipping down further to prod at an area he was not used to being touched and he whimpered.

“Y-You don’t have to,” he tried to say and she pulled back, reaching under him to stroke with her other hand and she began applying pressure which made his knees weak. He let out a groan, his right thigh shaking as the building pressure shot to his cock and he fell back, his head hitting the wood. He whined and whimpered, the sudden feeling of having to come starting to fill him and he bucked, wanting it when she released and the pressure dropped making him gasp.

“Sorry,” she grinned. “I can’t let you explode just yet.”

He whined like one of the mutts in the market, his face feeling hot and his head light and he looked down at her. She took his cock into her mouth again, quickly moving to thrusting against it and he groaned. It felt so good and she clearly was an expert at it because he began inching towards an orgasm once more. He tried not to buck into her mouth but it was increasingly difficult not to do so.

She took to holding his cock with her left hand, moving with her mouth, and her right shifted over his thigh before she reached behind and cupped his ass. He flushed, her soft hands gripping his bony rear rather possessively and she pushed him. He frowned, looking at her and her eyes flicked up to meet his. She let go of him, holding his cock with just her mouth and she snaked her other hand behind, pushing his hips forward.

He got the hint he could thrust and he timidly did so, shaking at the sight of his cock disappearing down her throat. He still didn’t go very fast, afraid of hurting her or losing it right when Indaryn came back but she got impatient with his lack of assertiveness. She shoved him against the cupboard making him yelp, her hands gripping his ass and she thrust her head on him.

The amount she swallowed made him whimper. “Y-You don’t have to!” he said, his ears burning as she moved fast on him and his thighs began to shake. The sight of the strange woman swallowing him almost to the base was more of a turn-on than he could imagine and he couldn’t help himself when he bucked a few times while she was sucking him off. She hummed, the sensation driving up his cock and he gasped, grabbing the cupboard behind him again in desperation as his orgasm started building fast.

Her right hand moved back to under his balls, her knuckle pushing making the pressure build quick and he let out a gasp as it made the feeling intensify. He needed to come - no, he had to come - and he quivered in his spot as his eyes began seeing spots, his cock leaking. The hot mouth around his cock sucked wildly to the point he couldn’t stand and he finally released with a cry. 

She grabbed the base of his cock, holding him steady as she swallowed and he fell back, groaning in a long, loud tone. Oh gods, it felt good to come and he let her milk him, his entire body filling with an intense, pleasant feeling.

It made his toes curl and his back arch and he licked his lips as he felt her clean him, her fingers massaging his skin. “You enjoy that?” she asked when she pulled off and he found himself shyly grinning, his cheeks a deep red. He looked to her, nodding and she smirked, moving to get up.

“Turn to the counter,” she said and he frowned, his senses coming back. The counter? “Trust me,” she said and he did as she asked, though now that his brain was coming back he tensed again, skeptical. His eyes went to the door and his fears starting to bother him once more.

“My boss,” he said, trying to emphasize that yes, the sucking had been nice but whatever she was planning was starting to go into dangerous territory if his boss came back. She smirked, tapping his ass making him jerk.

“You’ll be fine,” she said even though he didn’t feel like he would and she pushed him against the counter making him brace himself on his forearms. She ran a hand on his back, rubbing his tense body making him sigh and she knelt down, giving his rear a slap which made him turn in shock. She giggled at his confused and humiliated expression. “Turn around.”

He sighed, unsure. He cautiously went back to looking at the door, still frightened about Indaryn and it left him vulnerable to what she was doing. She spread his ass making him frown before she leaned in and licked him making his entire body tense.

“W-Wait-!” he said immediately, clenching as he tried to turn but she was strong. She shoved him forward, her tongue running over the one place he didn’t think of ever being touched by a tongue and she licked up to the small of his back making him tense. Her teeth scraped on his sensitive skin, moving down to nibble his ass a bit which made him shift, the sensation odd when she went back to licking him.

He tried to close his legs but she spanked him making him yelp. “Y-You hit me!” he said and she didn’t respond but her hand moved to grab his cock, squeezing it to the point where he curled. “Ancestors!”

She began stroking him from behind, her tongue still against him and she pushed his legs apart so she could go down further, pressing up against the same spot which made him shake as he could feel the pressure inside him increase rapidly. He grabbed the counter, hissing at the sensations and she began milking him as if he was a common cow, her hands moving in rhythm as she nipped at his ass cheeks.

“An-Ancestors!” he whined as his nails dug into the wood, his eyes still on the door but the pleasant sensation of the woman behind him teasing him made him less tense and worried about Indaryn. The feeling was still there, the fear of his boss walking in, but somehow he started getting pushed to the point where he didn’t care. He just needed relief from the woman’s hands and he bucked against her, moaning when her tongue teased his entrance.

Her fingers moved from pressing under his sack to gliding up to rub with her tongue and he leaned into it with a moan. He didn’t know why but he spread his legs more, thrusting against her palm while trying to rub against her other hand. She giggled, increasing her pace making him groan, her mouth biting his ass again and he closed his eyes as he worked himself up to coming again, something he was not used to.

He was beginning to ache, his balls heavy and his muscles wanting relief and she stood, leaning against him so he pressed harder against the counter, the edge digging into his chest. She reached around, jerking his cock hard as her hand moved up his body and she found his left breast, tugging at the nipple making him gasp.

“You would be a lot of fun in bed, I can tell,” she said against his ear and he groaned, thrusting hard in her hand. “I would love to play with you properly.”

He could only respond with a needy whine and she smiled before her mouth went to his ear. He thrashed immediately, the tips more sensitive than he could take and she didn’t stop sucking on it making him yell as he bucked against her.

“A-Ancestors!” he shouted, spilling his seed as his vision became blurred and he cried out as she continued jerking him as she did, his come coating her hand. Most hit the floor in big, thick drops and he let out a long, needy groan before he collapsed, struggling to hold onto the counter as he did. She giggled, moving away from him before she wiped her hands on her front and he barely registered the fact she was walking away until he heard the door and he immediately shot up, fear filling him over the reminder Indaryn still had to come back.

It was only her opening it and she gave him a naughty grin, her knapsack slung back on her shoulder. “Sorry to jerk and run but I am getting tired. I need to still find a bed and I suppose you need to work,” she said and he swallowed, flushing. “If I’m in Riften again, I’ll come find you. I’d really love to test you out properly.”

He let out a shaky sigh, slowly moving up and she grinned before she disappeared, the door moving to slam behind her and he shook for a second, suddenly alone. He swallowed, his throat dry and he looked down at the mess he had made at his feet, his ears turning red. He quickly dressed himself, rushing to grab a bucket and cloth and when he was finally done scrubbing the boards twice so no one could tell he came on them - how embarrassing. If Maven found out, he was dead - the door opened.

He jerked up, flushing deeply when he saw his boss and the Dunmer had a red face and nose, stumbling as he came in. His wife came after, unamused with her husband and both looked to him making him go stiff. He prayed to every god in Nirn they didn’t know what his night had been like.

“Whatt’ere you still doing here, runt?” Indaryn slurred making him frown. “Go home you stupid useless twit!”

He flushed. “Y-Yes, boss.”

“Boss?” Indaryn said, his eyes wild. “You making fun of me?”

He stared at him. “N-No!” he said. And he wasn’t. That was his title and he didn’t know what to say when Indaryn came around the counter, ready to look as if he was going to hit him making him scramble back.

“Indaryn,” his wife said. “He’s one of your workers.”

“Eh?” he said, his eyes puzzled and his mood sour and his wife rolled her eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “Bed.”

He snorted, looking at him with a threatening gaze making him shiver a little and he finally moved, following his wife out. Once the door had slammed, Ungrien let out a shaky sigh, moving to pull his apron off. He held the rags he had used to clean up his come, flushing a bit before he decided to take them. After all, it was quite obvious on what was coating them as anyone with half a brain could figure it out and he left, walking to the Bunkhouse where he stayed, discarding the rags over the side of the canal.

His thoughts went to the woman who had pleased him and he flushed deeply, entering the shabby building where he resided, the sounds of Haelga with a customer making him frown. He didn’t stop to eat or talk to Tythis who was working on one last tankard of watered down ale. He went to his bed, slipping off his shoes and he stared at the wall for a second, shivering when his memory gave him the thought of the woman’s hands on him. He curled on his bed, tugging the pelts over his shoulders and he could feel his cock twitch making him shift. He wanted to see the woman again.

Not in the Meadery, no, not there again. But somewhere where he could enjoy being with her. He closed his eyes at the thought of her mouth, his hand moving to briefly touch himself as the lingering sensations teased him. Maybe he could join her somehow. Maybe she could punch Indaryn out and save him from his job. He knew that was a very far-fetched idea but gave him some comfort in his bed. And really, that was what he wanted. Some comfort for once in his life.

He opened his eyes, hearing Grelka snore from her bed and he rolled onto his back, rubbing his cock as he did. He wished he had asked for the woman’s name at least. Or, if he had any guts, told her where he was staying and she could join him. But he didn’t and she was gone and he let out a soft sigh as he did.

Tomorrow, he had work again and he hoped his boss would damn well be sober this time and leave him be so he could work. But now when he went there, there would at least be an oddly pleasant memory. Of him coming on the floorboards and having a beautiful woman suck him off while she did. That sort of made him feel better. Yes, he had stained Maven Black-Briar’s precious floorboards. And when he was gone, someone else would stand where he had, unaware that he had done something dirty in the one place that was considered so damn sacred in Riften. But somehow it made him feel better. Like he had broken a needless law.

He smirked wickedly, closing his eyes as he did. Whenever Maven walked in, he could at least think about that. Or the thought that he got something that Indaryn probably didn’t - a good hand and blow job. He was the insignificant worker but now he had done something to the meadery that no one else would know about but him and he grinned in his sleep. It made the thought of going into work better and he drifted off to the sounds of Haelga shouting below, the floorboards beneath him creaking from the sounds of love.


	8. Not If You Were the Last Altmer on Earth (M!OC/Ahlam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: How does your character and their LI meet for the first time? Are they immediately attracted to each other? Or do they hate each other at first? Is there an immediately connection and/or sexual tension? Or do they just jump into bed the first time they meet?
> 
> I wouldn't say I love the Thalmor but I would definitely say I do give them pretty biased treatment. Yes, I'm aware they're monsters. Doesn't mean they're not fun to write. Or create. Which is how my dear Arandil came to be. But I wanted to do something different with him. Having a torturing Thalmor can be boring. So I figured why not give him the ego and sex drive of a narcissus and have fun with him. And I did have fun for three fics.

He first noticed her the day after he had come to Whiterun to make Balgruuf the Greater submit. His first day was messy; informing the Jarl that he will now have a Thalmor influence and then the endless reminding him of what denying their pact would do to him and his little city. He had been so swept up in pissing the Nord and his fetching dunmer off that he didn’t get a good look at the city.

Only on the second day when he decided to make his first rounds did he spot her. Well, her after several other women he noticed on his trek. The first woman he took an interest in was the one he met on the steps leading down from Dragonsreach. She was fetching and had quite the body on her. Her basket of flowers was paltry and he bought one despite not needing it causing her to become suspicious but it was no matter, really. 

He found out later her name was Ysolda. He would work on her, soon, he promised himself. She was young and curious and he could already taste her submitting to him which made him smile but he moved on.

The second was in the market. She was running a stall and immediately stiffened when he came. Well, she wasn’t the only one. He was aware of the looks he was getting as he was in full Thalmor robes but that would change. He wasn’t fond of the stiff robes; they came down too long for when he wanted to have a discreet dealing with a fine woman. Nevertheless, the market stall owner was pretty. He tried to buy something and she stiffly refused which made him smile. He loved women with a bit of bite to them.

From there he browsed the shops. The men didn’t interest him and one actually had the gall to approach him which he had one of his soldiers reprimand him for. The women, however, were so varied. Some young, some married. He saw a few elderly women too which didn’t entice him but he was raised to never be rude to a woman, even if she was about to crack into dust. One didn’t like him immediately and he could tell but a feeble one who was struggling to sit did smile when he offered a hand. Her name was Olava and he bowed to her before he left.

It was when he was up back in the second district – whatever it was called – that he saw her sitting underneath the dead tree did he stop. She was Redguard and she was stunning. He saw two Redguard women already but none were like this one. She looked up at him and he could see the loathing in her eyes. It made his spine tingle and a smile crack over his lips that caused one of his soldiers to sigh.

“Shall I bring her in for questioning, Justiciar Arandil?” he said almost weary and he smiled at his dutiful soldier.

“In time. For now… let me just see what she’s made of.”

She was made of quite the bit from what he found out. At first she was outright hostile. When he approached her she gave him one look and sneered. “Are you looking for my husband?”

“Husband?” he said a bit taken back but then he smiled. Oh, so she was married. How delightful.

“Nazeem,” she continued. “If you want him, go check the Jarl’s ass. That’s usually where his nose is stuffed.”

That made him raise a brow. “How curious. Your husband is… into men?”

She gave him a queer look. “You’re not that smart for an Altmer, are you?” she outright insulted and one of his men moved to reprimand her but he stopped them.

“Curo, back down,” he smiled at her, his hand out to stop him but she didn’t seem fazed by the action. It only piqued his interest more. “Forgive me… Ah, what was your name?”

She hesitated and crossed her arms. “Ahlam.”

“Ahlam,” he purred making her blush a bit. “I take things a bit too literally. I wasn’t aware you were being metaphorical. Regardless, I was not looking for your husband. I simply wanted to know about you.”

“I worship Kynareth,” she said bluntly before she stood. She only came to about his neck and he had to tilt his head a bit, admiring her. “Excuse me. I need to get back to the temple.”

“By all means,” he stepped out of her way and she shoved past his soldiers and went into the building behind him, slamming the door after. It made him chuckle and both his men looked to him, shocked before the one sighed.

“Justiciar, Elenwen said…”

“Yes, I’m aware of what she commanded,” he said, his expression turning cold as he looked to his men. “But she isn’t here and unless you want to slick my lust, I suggest you keep quiet.”

He got no protests after that and he looked to the statue of Talos near the foot of Dragonsreach and scoffed. It would soon be torn down and he would figure out which building the loudmouth priest lived in and burn that down as well. He was there to wipe out the worshippers and keep Balgruuf in line but it didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge himself. He was already starting to ache and he had to restrain himself from adjusting his cock.

The day ended with him having dinner in the grand hall and grinning behind his wineglass at the uncomfortable silence before it was broken by the Jarl’s mouthy brats. One asked if he was a murderer. The other said he’d slit his throat while he slept. He merely gave them a wicked grin and warned their father to keep them in line which he begrudgingly did.

At least the food was pleasant. That was possibly the only good thing about these Jarls.

 

 

His second meeting with Ahlam was when she was out with her husband. He recognized him as the man who approached him and scowled at him until he walked away leaving his wife behind which made her tighten her jaw. She was about to follow when he stopped her.

“I wasn’t aware that was your husband,” he said and she gave him a glare that could turn an ice wraith cold.

“What of it?”

He frowned at her. “He doesn’t seem right for you.”

She pulled away offended and stormed off leaving him sighing and folding his arms behind his back. He later met with the beautiful Nord Ysolda and once he got her relaxed and giggling, his charm working, he offered her a key. She took it curiously as her white cheeks tinted red which he dearly liked.

“What is this?” she asked.

“A key. To my quarters,” he said plainly. “In case you wish to do business. Like I said, I know many noblemen in Solitude and Markarth and can help you become a real merchant.”

She seemed to glow before she bit her lip – oh, how he loved when women did that – and turned shy. “What if I didn’t see you about business?”

He smiled. “If you wish to see me for leisure or pleasure… again. You have my key.”

She giggled and he was off, smiling to himself as he went back up to Dragonsreach. He still looked for Ahlam but he didn’t see her near the tree nor anywhere else by the steps and he retreated to his room down in the basement near some old boarded up door that reeked of corrupt magic.

Sure enough, the beautiful girl came to him using his key and he did not refuse her making his guards stand post outside. She was not a virgin but nor was she experienced and he found himself having some fun with her, enjoying making her giggle in bed more than he liked hearing her moan.

She left smiling as she did after and he took to having some wine to savor, sitting in a chair half naked as his soldiers came back in. They looked weary and embarrassed and he had to grin and pour them a drink. “Nord women are lovely, you know.”

“I prefer our own kin,” Curo said rather bluntly and he rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re missing out. Humans are tighter and really get into it when you whisper how forbidden it is for you to do this. It’s almost beautiful.” His soldier merely frowned but his other flushed a bit and looked into his wine. He noticed and cocked his head. “What about you, Andil? You’re awfully quiet.”

He became flustered. “S-Sir-?”

He could tell the look. One of a mer having hidden affections and not for their own kind. He didn’t press it as he could see Curo was irritated so he left it at that and they drank their wine while he enjoyed the aftereffects of pleasing a woman.

But he wasn’t fully satisfied and it wasn’t long after that he went out again in search of Ahlam. He found her inside the temple working and he let her be, slipping back to his basement quarters.

 

 

It was his second month of being in Whiterun that he finally caught her alone. By this time he had some of the lovely young girls under him more than once and several of their heretic men tortured at his feet. He enjoyed Whiterun and what it had to offer. It still needed to be purged, his execution of that insufferable priest a start but the women more than made up for it. Some avoided him at all costs and he was spat on by the children but oh, how Ysolda or that lass Gwendolyn at the farm would moan his name when he got them alone. Or that alchemist. Arcadia. She seemed to melt under his fingers as if she hadn’t been touched for years. 

They maintained hatred on the outside, lest they be branded as Thalmor sympathizers which he could see they didn’t want and he didn’t press it. After all, he had been in small cities before and had seen firsthand what these barbarians did to each other when you did not get in line. Humans were pathetic in that way. Some dunmer and bosmer too but not as many. 

Still, it pleased him greatly to know that despite what their silly men thought, how they ordered their wives and daughters to stay away they snuck to his quarters during the night for a taste. And he gave them what they wanted and they moaned and whispered how they ached for him into his ear.

It was just satisfying to walk down the street and see their husbands and fathers and smile at them because they didn’t know what their wives and daughters did or craved. But, nevertheless, there was one he kept missing and finally he came across her.

She was outside beneath the dead tree and he came to her side. “May I sit?”

She didn’t look pleased. “It’s a free bench.”

He took that as a yes and settled in beside her, his robes now casual and his stance lax. She maintained her posture which was stiff and he studied her for a moment before she turned on him.

“What do you want?”

He clucked his tongue. “Are you always this abrupt?”

“You have a problem with that?”

He smiled. “No. I like women who are inquisitive and independent.”

She obviously didn’t like his answer and he felt that chill up his spine. “Well, I don’t like Altmer men who obviously want to bed me,” she snapped. “Don’t think I haven’t heard Ysolda and Arcadia talking about you in secret.”

He tilted his head a bit, still smiling. “All positive things?” She scowled and he held in a chuckle, looking above them to the branches of the dead tree before back at her. She really was a catch. “I won’t lie to you. I do want to bed you. But not because of why you think. I rarely take women to add them as a notch on my belt or a mark above my bed,” he explained and she pursed her lips. “You deserve it.”

“I deserve it?” she said and he slowly become serious, nodding. “I deserve it?! What, and you’re just going to come and grant me a fuck as if you’re some knight in armor?! This is unbelievable!”

“Ahlam,” he said quietly, watching how worked up she was getting. “I know about you and Nazeem. About how you two haven’t been together in years.” Her eyes flashed with anger and she stared at him, her jaw becoming tight and he leaned up, giving her a look. He wasn’t doing this to insult her. She really needed to know his reasons. “Arcadia told me.”

“What does she know!?” she hissed and he held up a hand to stop her.

“She heard you talking to Danica. Look, it’s not my business-”

“No, it’s not!”

“-but you’re too beautiful to just stay under that fool. You deserve to be treated well.”

She stared at him again. “What?! By you?! A Thalmor!?”

He paused, watching her eyes, how furious she was but he could quickly see it was turning emotional. He looked around, seeing the one guard who walked around the tree coming up the steps as well as two of the little brats running towards them and he stood up. She was fighting not to get emotional and he blocked her face from the children and the guard, waiting until they left before he continued.

“Ahlam. Come to my quarters.”

“Why?!”

“So I can give you what you’re missing,” he said and she composed herself, her hands shaking a bit but she still held her glare.

“I don’t want to have sex with you.”

He sighed. “I never said that was what I wanted to do,” he replied quietly. “I said give you what you deserve.”

“And what is that?!”

“Affection.”

She stopped and for a moment there was a silence between them, the sounds of the children screaming echoing from the market and wood being chopped from a nearby house the only noise. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out and she took a second to collect her thoughts before she stood up.

“I don’t need you saving me,” she said as she started to leave but he caught her, inhaling the scent of lavender from her clothes, how her beautiful hair spun off her shoulder and he leaned in, meeting her hesitant eyes.

“I never said save,” he said softly. “Just think about it. You don’t deserve to be unhappy.”

She bit her bottom lip slightly, her eyes locked on his and for a moment he almost went in but he stopped himself short. She pulled away, leaving him to get back to the temple, the door shutting quietly behind her and he was left outside sighing.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the dead tree again before he went down into the market, trying again with Carlotta who got offended before he moved to the Bannered Mare where Hulda resided. A drink got him relaxed again and a traveller in his arms and he made it back to Dragonsreach before dusk, his neck red and cheap mead in his system.

When he went down to his quarters his soldiers were outside the door playing cards which made him frown. “Why aren’t you two inside?”

They gave him a look; Curo’s was of disappointment but Andil’s was of nervousness and embarrassment which sobered him a bit. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and he looked to his bed only to find it empty.

She was in the corner looking rather displeased and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Ahlam.”

She scowled. “I don’t even know why I’m here,” she muttered but she crossed her arms and stayed in her spot. “This was stupid.”

He slowly came towards her, not really believing it until he touched her and she flinched a bit. He tried with a more careful grip, her skin a bit cold and he rubbed her shoulder making her flush. “You came.”

She didn’t seem happy. “Yeah. I did. So now what? You going to just stand here and rub my shoulders? Because I can do that myself.”

He had to smile at her which made her shift in discomfort. “Can you?” he reached up, his fingers moving over her collar before they hit her neck and he felt the tension she held. Slowly he rubbed making her even tenser but after a second she relaxed and he watched her sink into the massage. He stopped but only to fetch a chair, indicating she should sit and she did so nervously. She was obviously not used to anyone pampering her.

He stood behind her and began working on her shoulders which made her softly sigh. Her skin was such a beautiful copper and despite her age she held little wrinkles or blemishes which was something to admire. He worked her until she stopped flinching, until she was calm in his presence and he stopped to lean down and kiss the back of her neck.

It made her tense again but he massaged her and kissed the spot once more. “H-Hey…”

“Sorry,” he said against her, his lips ghosting over the nape of her neck which made her shiver. “You’re just too beautiful not to taste.”

She flushed. “You’re not bedding me.”

“Can a man not give a woman a compliment?” he said and she turned, her eyes immediately searching his which made him stop. He frowned. “Ahlam. I mean it.”

She said nothing, her eyes still searching but after a moment she accepted it and leaned back though she was wary. “What kind of Thalmor Agent are you?” she said making him tilt his head. “You bed Ysolda, make an innocent priest disappear, then suddenly Arcadia is with you. And Hulda. And who knows who else!” she hissed. “What do you want from me!?”

He kissed her neck again making her tense. “I want you to smile,” he said. “Women are too lovely to spend their days locked away in unhappiness. And to answer your question, I am just as any other Thalmor.” He kissed her neck making her nearly whimper and his hands moved down, rubbing her arms. “I serve the empire the same as you.” He kissed her jaw which made it tighten. “But unlike you…” he kissed her cheek. “I’m honest with myself.”

“What do you mean?” she snapped and she turned just enough for him to kiss her lips, savouring the fleeting feeling before she pulled away with a slight gasp. He merely smiled and leaned down to nuzzle her ear.

“I would not keep convincing myself my husband loves me long after it’s apparent he doesn’t.”

She slapped him and hard which made him pull back and she was out of her chair. She kicked it at him, nearly shouting as she did and she was gone leaving him holding his cheek and sighing while his soldiers were up, Curo grabbing his sword.

“Curo, relax.”

“Justiciar Arandil-!” he hissed but he waved him off.

“Let her go,” he sighed. “She needs some time.”

He didn’t seem happy about it but he sheathed his sword. Andil came in, grabbing the chair to right it before he stared at him making him smile a bit as he went to fetch some wine. “S-Sir?”

“You can call me Arandil,” he said but the young altmer ignored it.

“Sir, What did you say?”

He only smiled, pouring himself a glass as he reflected on the beautiful Redguard. “Something I shouldn’t have,” he almost laughed. “Something we both know but I shouldn’t have said…”


	9. Canis Root and Strawberry Tea (M!OC/Ysolda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I do not care what kind of fluff. Parent fluff, mentor fluff, sibling fluff stuff, lover fluff gimmie. Khajits grooming each other? Argonians rubbing oil into each others scales? (it doesn't have to be grooming fluff, but literally any sweet things to rock my socks will be loved and appreciated.)
> 
> Oh Arandil, you cad! But seriously, I had a lot of fun writing an OC male trying to woo one of the canon females. I was so used to writing it the other way around that having to do the opposite was a fun challenge.

The Oblivion Crisis was an odd book. He didn’t really remember it as he was in Hammerfell at the time and had been, well, rather occupied with a group of women who still made him shiver. Still, the notion of someone turning into an avatar of Akatosh was just… stupid. He closed the book and looked to the ceiling, counting the stones before he opened it again and tried to read it once more.

A thankful knock to his door made him drop the book in relief and he went to answer it when a cloaked figure came in. He paused, his hand instinctively going to the dagger at his side but the figure pulling back their hood made him stop. “Ysolda.”

She looked to him, her eyes rather red and he frowned as he watched her. She pulled her cloak off, her hem covered in mud and she went to place it on the back of the chair in his room when a small whimper escaped her. He was on her right away, touching her cold skin to warm it, turning her so he could view her face. “Ysolda, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Her bottom lip shook for a moment but she composed herself and let out a ragged sigh. “No. No. Nothing. Nothing I just…” her lip quivered again making him frown and she hugged her arms. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

He paused, looking behind him at his rather small bed and back to her but she didn’t notice. She merely continued to hug her arms, her stance showing she was upset and he pursed his lips. “Of course you can,” he started which made her relax but he wasn’t done. “If you tell me what happened.”

She became tense. “Nothing. I just… wanted to be with you tonight, okay?”

He didn’t believe her but he didn’t press it lest she run out and make him chase her down. He was willing but a Thalmor Justiciar running after a girl never looked, well, good. Unless she was giggling and naked and he was… He shook his head a bit. Best not get into those type of thoughts when the girl in his room was upset.

He took to letting her sit down in the chair, her hand coming to touch her forehead in weariness as she leaned over the table and he briefly left to go fetch a pitcher of water. When he came back she was staring at the wall and he closed his door, locking it for good measure as he went to her and pulled out a slightly cracked mug from the old dresser. He set it in front of her making her look up and he flicked his hand causing fire to burst from his palm. 

It wasn’t exactly easy but he balanced the pitcher under the fire while grabbing a few scattered ingredients he kept in a bowl. Canis root, snowberries, and whatever else was cradled in the wooden dish.

She watched him as he walked around, struggling to grab the small jar of honey to place in front of her and he dropped the alchemy ingredients in the pitcher once it was boiling. He shoved a lid onto it from another pot and took the seat across from her, picking up the tankard that was near him and checking it briefly to make sure it didn’t have any leftover wine or mead in it.

She was still watching him when he relaxed, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t say anything as she didn’t exactly look as if she wanted to talk and he merely waited a few minutes until he was sure the ingredients had steeped.

It was only when he was struggling to strain the damned stuff using the oversized lid did she speak. “What is that?”

“Tea,” he said simply. He poured her a cup, sliding the honey towards her after and he took to pouring himself one into his tankard. He took one taste and felt himself stiffen at the bitterness, looking to her for a second but she hadn’t taken a drink. Good. “Y-You might want to add in some honey. A lot of it.”

She looked to the small jar, her fingers closing around the tankard and he waited as he wasn’t going to spoon himself any before she did when she got up. He frowned and she came to his side, burying herself against him making him set down his tankard and he embraced her back.

“You know… for a Thalmor… you really are sweet,” she said against his chest and he briefly thought to his torture session that morning but didn’t bring it up.

“Only to those who deserve it, my dear,” he said as he stroked her hair and she looked up at him, those damned beautiful eyes on him and he felt his fingers twitch. Gods, she was pretty. He was about to reach up and cup her face so he could kiss her when she leaned back against him and rested her cheek on his collar.

“I met a merchant. In the Bannered Mare,” she said and he frowned but didn’t say anything letting her take her time to explain. She held him a bit tighter, her lip being chewed periodically but she did eventually go on. “I thought I could make a contact with them. They said they travelled between Riften and the Reach and come up through past Whiterun to do so. It would have been perfect because when they stopped, I could collect my earnings and exchange more.”

“…But?”

She bit her lip. “But… they…” she gripped him tighter making him more concerned when she sighed. “They were leading me on. All they wanted was to ogle me. To try and bed me!” she let go of him making him blink in shock at the sudden anger on her face, tears forming in the corner of her eyes as she looked up at him as if he were the bastard merchant. “They thought I was kidding! Just some silly naïve girl who had silly ideas! Not a true woman after business but just… a… a-a prostitute! Saying things so I could bed them!”

He pursed his lips and watched her suddenly become embarrassed and wipe angrily at her eyes. He was silent for a moment before clucking his tongue. “Are they still at the Bannered Mare?”

“What? On, no, Arandil,” she frowned, rubbing at her nose, her once pale face now turning blotchy from her frustration and fussing. “No, forget it. Don’t do anything. I just left, I just wanted to be with someone who… who isn’t a complete pig.”

He said nothing, still watching her and when she finally calmed down, her arms hugging her shoulders again he reached over and tilted her chin up so she could look to him. It made her bite her lip but he didn’t react. “Are they still at the Bannered Mare?”

“…No.”

He wasn’t satisfied and he moved past her, unlocking his door to find his soldiers who were sitting outside with a deck of cards, Curo looking up quietly when he approached and Andil fumbled with his hand. “You two. There’s some merchants in the Bannered Mare. Check their things for Talos worship. If you find any, haul them into the dungeons for questioning.”

“And if they don’t?” Curo said quietly. Arandil merely smirked.

“Take them to the dungeons anyways.”

“As you wish, Justiciar Arandil,” Curo said as he got up and Andil flushed, dropping his hand as he grabbed his sword and followed after. He watched them before going back towards his chambers, looking to Ysolda who stood at the doorway, her cheeks flushing.

“You didn’t have to…”

He snorted. “My dear, I was raised by a flock of women. I know what happens when one encounters a right prick,” he said simply as he stepped in and closed the doors behind him making her frown. “Now come. Have some tea and relax. You may have my bed tonight if you wish, and I'll take the chair. I don’t mind.”

He went back to his seat, picking up his tankard as he settled down but she remained by the doorway frowning. After a minute she finally came back, sitting down and she was flushing, her eyes moving slightly indicating she was thinking.

“Will you kill them?”

“No,” he admitted. “Unless they provoke me.”

“Don’t kill them…” she said softly and he looked to her. She didn’t meet his gaze but she picked up her tankard, taking a moment before she took a sip.

She immediately started coughing, her eyes turning wide and her cheeks red and he flushed and was up, standing over her. She coughed more, tears stinging her eyes. “W-What!? What is this!? Oh gods-! Arandil! T-This is awful!”

He frowned and looked in the steeped water. “It’s Canis root and snowberry tea.”

“T-That is not tea!” she hacked, flushing. “Kynareth’s winds! That tastes worse than Hulda’s wine!”

He flushed a bit. “Come now, that’s a bit low. All it needs is some honey. It’s fine.”

She pushed him aside and looked into the pitcher. “Did you put a deathbell in here?!”

“No,” he said defensively. She reached in and plucked out a drooping bulb shaped flower and he frowned. “That’s lavender.”

She stared at him in shock before dropping it back in, her hands coming out as if she was restraining herself. “That… That is not lavender.”

“It’s purple,” he said and she brought her hands up to her face, rubbing for a second before she turned on him.

“That’s a deathbell.”

“So what?”

“Arandil-! Oh gods, of course. Of course! No man can ever be perfect,” she said as she turned, almost laughing a bit but it wasn’t out of amusement. “Lavender… Gods above. You almost killed me. You almost killed me because you thought that was lavender!”

He started to flush in irritation and he grabbed his tankard. “Whatever. It tastes fine.” He was about to take another drink when she yanked the mug out of his hands, pouring the contents back into the pitcher.

“No! Don’t drink that! This needs to be dumped. Lavender… Men!” she scoffed, leaving with the pitcher and he flushed, clucking his tongue in annoyance, questioning what her problem was before he followed her out, watching as she disappeared upstairs. She came back not too long after, the pitcher now holding water and she went to place it on the table, shaking her head as she did and he came to her side.

“Men.”

He flushed. “Ysolda.”

“What?”

He touched her waist causing her to turn and he leaned down, his lips brushing over her cheek making her stop. “I’m sorry.”

It made her pause, her breath caught in her throat and he sighed, leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder, her skin tasting a bit like salt but still addictive and he trailed his kisses up causing her to relax. “I’m sorry.”

She hesitated but eased against him. He may be proud but he knew when to relent and there was no easier way to make a woman stop her fury than apologizing. Sure enough, a few more kisses had her arched against him and he swept her up into his arms, carrying her to his bed. He gently placed her down, meeting her quick kisses back and he moved to her throat, loving it when she exposed her neck more and her fingers danced on his shoulders.

“Arandil….”

“Hm?”

She flushed and he had to stop, moving to look at her, how she really was quite the beauty. Damn, he loved Nordic women. If he was a lesser man he’s be all over her but he restrained himself. His fingers brushed over her lips and she moaned slightly making his skin prickle but he waited.

She finally spoke. “Don’t… kill those two merchants.”

He frowned at her, studying her as her eyes stayed locked on him large and doe-like and completely innocent which made him relent. He leaned down almost kissing her but he stopped before he could making her let out a ragged breath. “As you wish.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, their lips meeting. He let her control them, her kisses gentle and slightly possessive but sweet and he soon took to holding her to himself, one of his hands snaking up to hold her head and tangle in her hair while she let go of his neck and moved to gripping his arms.

He didn’t press further unless she wanted it and what she seemed to want was comfort. To be held and kissed in a romantic way and to feel warm and protected. He ended up kicking his boots off, moving away from her for a brief moment as she did the same and when he leaned back she pulled him further onto the bed, shoving him so he was on his back while she sat above, her red hair falling down over her face and her gentle frame looming over him.

He kissed her nose making her smile and she kissed his back, her chest pressing against his, her legs moving to hold one of his.

"I'm sorry about the tea."

She smiled. "It's alright..." she tilted her head staring at him and when he started to flush she spoke again. “You are a very strange Thalmor, Arandil. Being so kind when others like you are pigs.”

He smirked. “I prefer to be called an Altmer when I’m off the clock.”

She giggled and kissed him lightly making him sigh. At least she was smiling again. That was the one thing he always wanted her to do. “I apologize. You’re a very strange Altmer.”

“That I am,” he said, nipping her jaw which made her giggle again. His fingers moved down, holding her waist to him and he felt her body from beneath her dress, how she was so young and sweet and it made him think to how he was going to beat down those merchants in the morning.

A kiss to his neck made him pause and he turned, their eyes meeting. She bit her lip, her cheeks red and her eyes bright and he licked his lips, reaching up to cup her face, his thumb stroking her soft skin. She leaned into it, nuzzling his palm and he leaned up so their foreheads touched.

“What would you like me to do, Ysolda?”

She flushed but reached to touch his jaw, her now warm fingers running over his cheeks. “Stay with me tonight.”

“As you wish.”


	10. Mezcal Sky (M!OC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just screwing around with him during this.

He woke to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchens above, the fast scuttling of women’s feet noticeable on the creaking boards and the hissing of food starting to be prepared coming from the spit that hung over the fire. He reached up and slowly pulled his book from his face, sighing a bit, his eyes weary from sleep but he got up. His room was empty of any type of food save for a bottle of mead and he rubbed his eyes, exhausted.

Wandering out yielded no food either and strangely none of his men. He wrinkled his nose, looking for the two when footsteps sounded on the stairs and he watched as one of the servants came down. She caught sight of him and her face fell, her body stiff as she curtsied and he bowed slightly as he watched her scamper away to fetch a pot.

Where in oblivion was everyone? He clucked his tongue, annoyed, and thought of going out but the more he contemplated it the more he realized there was no point. He didn’t need his men and there was no one he had to see. Ahlam was still angry with him, Ysolda was away to Rorikstead while Arcadia and Gwendolyn were working in the fields and he sighed as he went back to his room, shutting the door and locking it.

He picked up his book, flipping it in his hand before he fell back on his bed, his mind alert now but his body still weary. Really, he should be cherishing getting some time alone but he found himself bored knowing he couldn’t get up and see someone. It bothered him.

He took to trying to read the book he borrowed from the library upstairs but it was dull and bleak like most books in the Hold. He dropped it and finally decided to go out, striding past the kitchen and out towards the front door, the Jarl’s children running around and giving him looks as they did which he ignored.

He left, walking around the grounds of Dragonsreach where the guards gave him equally rude looks but he ignored them as well, not in the mood to send fireballs their way. The sky was a mixture of purple and light blue and he found himself trying to look over the wall to see the sunset but it was hidden from his view. He checked around, making sure no one saw, before he scaled it and dropped down behind the palace, catching himself before he broke his legs.

To the west he could see where it had gone down, streaks of orange coming from behind a mountain and he sighed, leaning against the wall. How he wished he had Ahlam or Ysolda beside him to watch it and he relaxed as the stars began to come out, small bright lights in an endless sky.

That was when his conscious came to him.

_What on earth was he doing here? He was an Altmer of the Summerset Isles, not some boy who snuck out before dark. His men should be at his side at all times and women around him bent by his knee. Yet here he was, alone and watching a sunset behind a palace like a peasant._

He clucked his tongue at his thoughts. It wasn’t that bad.

_No, it wasn’t. He was just stuck away in Skyrim to monitor it except no one seemed to care for his reports. Face it, he was tossed here to be quieted and the fact that his men didn’t respect him enough to stay by his commands or his power was so little he couldn’t even make the city fear him only reinforced that._

He found himself frowning deeply.

_You know Ahlam is never going to come around._

He got up, scowling, as if he could see a personification of his thoughts and he began to march back towards the gates, his mood souring as he did. Above him the purple faded and soon gave way to a brilliant blanket of navy speckled with lights but he couldn’t see beauty in it. Not when he was so angry.

He actually contemplated going to find his men to punish them severely and show that city who he was when he stumbled a bit, nearly falling which made his heart race and cheeks flush red in embarrassment. He looked around, making sure no one saw, before he continued, now paranoid. He was still furious but his stumbling made him turn beet red and he chastised himself for his stupidity.

By the time he got to the gates he just wanted to get back to his hole in the ground and he ignored everyone he passed, not sparing anyone a look when he went past. The children who ran past called him names which he didn’t reply to and the men who were out watching him with wary, distrustful eyes which he would have found amusing but somehow he wasn’t in the mood anymore.

In Dragonsreach the feast was on and he wasn’t called to join them though he was used to it by now. He returned instead to his bedroom, tossing the book on the table before he began to undress. He threw his robes off, changing into a light wool tunic instead and he locked his door, lying down on his bed with his body and mind now equally alert.

He stared at the ceiling, listening to the muffled chatter from above.

“Fuck it,” he said quietly to himself and he doused the scone by his bed, turning over to stare at the stone wall, his eyes closing. He didn’t drift off to sleep until well after the hearth upstairs had died down and even then his dreams were dark reminding him of his failures. 

It was one of those nights. They didn’t come often for him but when they did he was always left with a sense of loneliness he feared he’d never get over.

 

\-------


	11. The Wind in the Rain (M!OC/Ahlam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually an original fic that I filled in for a kink meme prompt later. As I first wrote it as original, I'll keep it as such. This is the last thing I wrote with Arandil. My plan was to continue on with his attempted persuasion of getting Ahlam to bed with him when his brother comes to see exactly what he's been doing for the Dominion. Which isn't much. Anyways, things turn bad, he shows that he's a Thalmor Justiciar for a reason and... none of the girls want near him. So he relocates to Riften as the Thalmor Justiciar there and, well. It wasn't Whiterun. But hell, the girls there are interesting. But alas, that'll never come to be.

He saw her running for cover before she saw him, her dress becoming soaked as the rain poured down harder than before, lightning crashing above. She covered her head with her arm, her pants leaving lingering breaths in the air and he watched as she ran towards a tree making him move.

“Ahlam!” he shouted, his voice nearly lost in the tremendous downpour but he tried again. “Ahlam! Come here! Don’t go under that tree!”

The Redguard heard him and stopped, her sharp eyes finding him in the storm and she seemed to get furious but he wasn’t going to let her risk her life to stay dry. He was soaked to the bone, his white hunting robes weighing him down but he could still move swiftly and he caught up to her in no time, taking her hand.

She refused to move until he turned to plead with her. “Never stand under a tree in a thunderstorm!”

“Then where do you propose we go!?” she spat, her chest rising and falling, her hair starting to untangle from its bun making her look positively radiant. He wished to kiss her, he really did, but he restrained himself and merely pulled her by her hand.

She eventually relented and they took off across the plain, thunder rolling ahead making the earth feel as if it was shaking before he led her to an outcrop behind Dragonsreach, the nearest shelter. She staggered underneath, her eyes on the broken crates but she said nothing as she was just relieved to be out of the rain.

He pulled back his hood, shaking his head briefly before he smoothed back his hair and he looked to her with a smile. She merely looked back at him in annoyance, her arms crossed tight over her chest. He merely gave her a kind grin. “What were you doing out there?”

“What were you doing out there?” she snapped and he had to laugh. Always so feisty she was. He reached down and opened his satchel pulling out a few game hens which made her frown.

“Hunting, my dear. The same as I always do.”

She nearly sneered. “What, you kill those in the same way you kill Priests of Talos?”

He had to smirk. “My dear, if I did, they would be lacking a head, feet, and wings and have a very peculiar hole in their chest. Right where their heart resides.”

She looked at him horrified. “That’s disgusting!”

“I’m joking!” he lied. “Honestly, Ahlam! You are always so serious.”

She said nothing back but her gaze was cold and he had to chuckle as he put away his dinner, tying the leather on the front to keep them secure. The thunder rolled above, this time louder and closer to the previous rumbles making him realize the heart of the storm was above them. He looked to the beautiful Redguard watching her shiver a little and he went near her making her nearly hiss.

“What!?”

He pulled off his cloak. “Here.”

“I don’t want that,” she said and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Ahlam.”

“What!?”

“We’re not in Whiterun. We’re alone,” he said as his arm swept over the area. “You can drop the hostility.” She gave him a look and he sighed. “I’m offering you some warmth because you’re freezing. Take it.”

She looked down at his hand then to his thin, dripping blue cloak and she sniffed and looked back to the plains. “It’s dripping wet, Thalmor. That won’t make me warmer. It would do the opposite.”

He stared at her, really studying her and her features before he clucked his tongue and put his cloak back on. She continued to shiver while he, though wet, remained comfortable. He watched her for another minute, how she knelt a bit, pressing her chest against her knees and he finally sighed.

“Ahlam, what do you have against me?”

“You’re joking, right?” she said in a shocked tone. “You’re a bloody Thalmor Agent.”

“Besides that,” he rolled his eyes and she glared at him.

“Do I need to say more?! I think that says everything!” she said angrily and he frowned. She continued to shiver and he stepped towards her but she moved. “Back off!”

“Ahlam, I am just doing my duty as written in the White-Gold Concordat. The Empire – which you serve – agreed to this as well as did all its citizens to stop worshipping that false god Talos,” he said plainly. “If you worship him, we will come. It’s not a hard concept.”

“You torture them,” she said angrily as she tucked her hands under her arms. “Is that part of the deal?! Or is that just for fun?”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t torture anyone,” he lied again and she glared at him as if she could see right through him.

“Bullshit.”

“Even if I did,” he snapped back. “What makes you think I deserve condemnation for it? The Empire does the same as did the Stormcloaks, your people in Hammerfell with prisoners, the Dunmer, the Bosmer, and bloody well everyone else who has set foot on this mortal plane!” He pointed out. “Why not just hate everyone? All races have done it!”

She slowly stood up, giving him a furious look. “People in the past may have but no one in Whiterun ever did until you came. You are a murderer.”

“You think your guards never tortured anyone?” he scoffed. “I honestly thought you were smarter than that!”

She flushed a furious red which nearly highlighted her features. “The guards of Whiterun have never tortured anyone!”

“You want me to take you to the boneyard where they hide the corpses?!” he spat back and she flushed.

“If they did, it was to criminals!” she shouted.

“And who do you think I torture!” he yelled right back and there was a silence, his chest rising a bit and her eyes opening in shock before they looked away from each other, the tension thick. The thunder rumbled overhead, flashes of lightning creasing the sky and Arandil found himself in a rather peculiar situation.

He honestly wanted the Redguard, he really did. Everything about her just spoke of how he needed to make her melt under his fingers and taste her sweet flesh and just bury himself in her. But, Magnus have mercy, she was just so damned stubborn and pigheaded. He should just ignore her and keep playing the other sweet women. Their bodies under him was more than enough to keep him sated.

But he wanted her. Ahlam. The woman married to that arrogant bastard who deserved a good flogging in the dungeons. He turned to stare at her and she was turned away from him having moved further down for shelter and he found himself almost growling.

“Ahlam.”

“Fuck you.”

“Why were you out on the plains?”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “None of your damn business.”

He moved towards her making her turn, her eyes hard and jaw tight but he ignored it. He didn’t care if she took a swing at him, let her. He just couldn’t bear it any longer. “Why were you out there?”

“Get away from me!” she snapped but he didn’t listen. He took a few more steps, his boots becoming muddy as the dirt beneath them was kicked up and she moved until her back hit the outcrop behind her making her stop. He came to stand before her, his green eyes moving over her and he tried one last time.

“Why were you out there?”

She took a swing and he caught her, hauling her into his arms making her thrash. “Let GO!”

“Ahlam!” he let go of her one hand to grab her waist, holding her tight and she slapped him but he merely winced and didn’t let go. “It’s a simple question!”

She kicked at him, thankfully not hitting anything critical and she continued to fight forcing him to turn her and press her against the back of the outcrop, grabbing her arms and using his weight to pin her down. She scratched at his skin, still fighting but it was becoming less and less until she let out a sob.

“Let go! Just let go of me!”

He held her for a minute, watching the tears fall down her face but he did as she asked. She fell against the rock wall, burying her face in her hands and he sighed.

“What happened?”

She shook her head, still crying. “Get lost!”

“Ahlam…” he leaned down, his hands touching her shoulders making her flinch but he rubbed to soothe her. “You may hate me all you want but I care about you.”

“Shut up!” she snapped and he pursed his lips but continued.

“What happened?!”

She threw her arms out, slapping him again, one of her nails nearly scratching his eye but he maintained himself and cupped her face, holding her steady as he looked to her. Tears were still falling from her eyes and he brushed them away with his thumbs, her wet hair sticking to her neck and cheeks.

“What happened?”

Her shoulders shook, her eyes closing for a second and she sniffed, coughing a bit before she shook her head. “I hate you,” she finally said. “I hate you. I will always hate you and I want you to leave.”

He said nothing as he searched her eyes and he could see the sorrow but he obeyed and stood up making her stare at him. He gave her a bow and moved to leave when she was up and grabbing his hand. “W-What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he said simply as he looked over his shoulder at her. “You told me so, so I will.”

She still seemed in shock and she held his hand tighter. “Why?”

He gave her an odd look. “You asked-”

“That’s not what I meant!” she snapped before her shoulders sank. “Why? Why do you do as I say? Why do you care about me!? I don’t even know you! I don’t even like you!”

He turned towards her, the thunder rumbling overhead again and she let go of his hand leaving a small space between them. He merely stared at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said and she flushed. “And in pain.” He purposely paused so she could take in his words and his eyes stared deep into hers, his words sincere and when she was about to say something he spoke again.

“I was raised by women, Ahlam. A lot of them. My father and brother were off doing… whatever, something for the Dominion, I don’t care. Still don’t. And it was left to my mother and her friends to raise me,” he shrugged, smiling a bit as he recalled some of them. “Women of the Isles are just like everyone else behind closed doors. My mother had friends just like you. They suffered with their husbands who long ago stopped having a passion for them. Every day I would see them full of anger while in the parlor with my mother or sobbing quietly in the study when they thought no one could see.”

She looked away from him as if he was accusing her which made him sigh. “Call me a pig, call me a bastard, call me whatever. But I just could never stand to see a woman in misery. Women are their best when they are smiling and happy.”

He reached forward, touching her neck which made her jerk a bit and he pulled away slightly but once her body relax he continued and he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes again. “I care about you because I don’t want to see you live your short life locked away crying in a study because the man you married is a fool.”

She swallowed. “You don’t know him,” she said in a raspy tone and he frowned.

“No. But I know what he causes you to feel,” he said and she bit her lip. “Ahlam.”

“What?”

“Why were you out here in the rain?”

She said nothing, her eyes red and a bit puffy, her hands forming into fists and her throat tight and he sighed.

“It’s none of your business,” she finally said and he didn’t reply. He merely pulled his hand away, taking one step back and he studied her.

“No, it’s not,” he said and he bowed again to leave. He was about to turn when she grabbed him by the collar, her nails digging in hard in the fabric and he was roughly pulled down. Her lips met his, his body becoming stiff in shock but he quickly got over it and melted into her, parting his lips so she could feel him.

She was kissing him roughly, angrily, like she knew it was a mistake but her hands came up to wrap around his neck. She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip and dug her nails into his skin but he didn’t care. He pulled her to him, kissing her back, his tongue flicking against her mouth whenever he could and when she pulled away he panted in tune with her.

Her eyes were dark and full of hate, her anger still apparent but she forced him into a kiss again. He grabbed her and hauled her up making her growl as he cupped her backside but he positioned her above him and she continued to control their rather rough and passionate kiss.

He had to touch her and he ran a hand up her back, feeling her wet dress and her damp hair and her wonderful hips and she pulled away.

“I hate you,” she growled and he smiled, his lips burning a bit.

“Yet I love you.”

She kissed him once more before she pulled away and forced him to let go. He didn’t want to but she was angry and confused with herself so he did and he watched her pace, a hand coming up to her forehead. She glared at him as a wolf did to a hunter when caught in its snare and he merely smiled, licking his swollen lips.

“Oh, don’t think you’ve won,” she hissed and he raised a brow.

“Won? I wasn’t aware I was in a contest or tournament.”

She hissed at him. “Shut up! I can’t stand you! You murderous, filthy Thalmor!”

“Care to say that again?” he asked, tilting his head. “A little closer. Where I can hear better. Near my lips?”

She stepped towards him fast making him flinch a bit but she didn’t follow up on her threat and soon went back to the other end of the outcrop, now regretting what she did. He watched her lick her lips, her hands going underneath her arms again, eyes out on the plains waiting for the rain to stop and he had to smile.

“Ahlam,” he said and she looked to him, wary. “Do you feel better?”

“No,” she said but her voice wasn’t as angry or full of such resentment which made him smile. He looked out seeing the rain was letting up, large drops still falling but not in such a thick blanket at once and he could see her now shaking in impatience.

It didn’t surprise him when she moved, leaving the outcrop to run back to the gates of the city but it did surprise him when she turned as he called her name. “Ahlam!”

She stopped.

“Come to my chambers tonight,” he said in a casual tone. “I promise I won’t make you cry.”

“Fuck off you torturing, disgusting swine!” she snapped and she turned quickly and ran off making him sigh but smile.

She did something to him, made him feel something he only felt a few times before for mortal women. He thought again to his mother’s friends, how when he soothed them they clung to him for comfort and told him what a good boy he was to do such a thing and he flushed. So many women over the years, yet so many of them were the same. Such delicate, beautiful creatures with such complex emotions.

He thought to his own wife back in the Isles and wondered if she ever missed him when he shrugged it off. If she did, she would write and the last time she had he had been assigned to Cyrodiil a hundred and some years before.

He waited until the rain stopped before he ventured out back to Whiterun, his clothes sticking to his body and chafing him bad by the time he hit the gates. Inside the streets had stagnant puddles forming and some of the little brats were running around unsupervised while the residents slowly ventured back out.

He spotted Gwendolyn coming from the Drunken Huntsman and he smiled at her as she stared at him. A quick look around to make sure no one saw and she went to his side. “Arandil, you’re soaked!”

He smiled at her. “That I am.”

“Did you get caught in the rain? You’ll catch your death!”

He raised a brow as he looked at the fair young girl and one quick look up showed no sign of Ahlam making him sigh. Well, he had got a kiss from her, that was farther than he had ever got. And, to be honest, he could really do with more. He leaned down, his lips moving over the young girl’s ear and he breathed against her softly making her gasp.

“Maybe you should warm me up, my dear,” he purred. “Help he take off these wet robes.”

She blushed and looked around, making sure no one could see. “…Where, praytell, shall I do this?”

“In my chambers,” he said quietly before he winked at her. “You have my key, do you not?”

“I always do,” she smiled and he parted from her. He made his way back up to Dragonsreach, looking for signs of the temple priestess but she was nowhere to be found. Still, he would be quick with Gwendolyn and then spend the rest of his night waiting. If he was lucky, she would come. If not, well.

He sighed. He hoped she would come. After all, out of all the women in Whiterun, she deserved to be loved the most and he would give anything to be the one to do so. He’d even give up being a Justiciar.

For a while.


	12. Common People (Ondolemar/F!DB)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Can I get a fill about a F!DB who gives no fucks? I mean, this girl doesn't give a shit about the war, about being Dragonborn, about the Thalmor... NOTHING. She doesn't worship a Divine or a Daedric Prince. The only one she worships is herself. She's a completely self-centered, manipulative, snarky, smart-assed brat. She mouths off to anyone and everyone.. Basically, she gives no fucks. Ondolemar or Ancarion meets her somehow, someway and is torn between wanting to put her in place and put her in bed.
> 
> Alright, this is unfinished and this was one of the very first Skyrim fics I ever wrote. I did want to continue it but after being told the F!DB in question reminded someone of Meg, I just stopped. I was just getting into the fandom so not cutting my teeth just yet and, well. I figure I might as well put it up anyways. I don't even remember the plan with this one either, it was that long ago.

He disliked her the moment she walked into the Understone Keep, her studded armor loose on her body showing off her vulgarity and her expression a constant sneer as if she was superior to all who walked the halls. It sickened him, these Nords who didn’t know their place. There seemed to be more and more with each passing day. It was if... they weren’t even aware of the Dominion and who they bowed to and who their overlords were. Well, that would change.

He had just come around the bend, doing his regular patrol in front of the Jarl to make sure he was doing as he should when he noticed her coming forth from the stone hall. 

She had stomped up the stairs, throwing her hair back over her shoulder like a snotty undisciplined human teenager would do and disappeared in the shadows before the throne room before appearing next to the guards, her eyes forward. He sneered; those lights should reach further so anyone approaching could be illuminated. Not that he would care if an assassin came for the Jarl but his own eyes wished to see every citizen who passed through. His own curiosity, he supposed.

She pushed past the Housecarl Faleen to stand in front of the Jarl, who was visibly offended at her attitude. Ondolemar didn’t blame him for once. What wench approached without being given permission? He slowed down his walking, his two men behind him doing the same and he kept his eyes on her as he carefully walked, listening to the conversation to come.

“What is the meaning-!” Igmund had started when she threw down a slip of paper, the corners bloody and torn.

“The bandit at Four Skull is dead,” she cut in, crossing her arms and looking around the place in disdain. For a second, Ondolemar caught a glimpse of her face in the light and he had stopped the patrol to stare. She had rusty war paint thrown on her face and chunks of dirt and blood sticking in her short blonde hair. Her eyes were blue, as most Nords were, but her cheeks were rounded showing her youth and wealth. She was obviously brought up with meals every day otherwise she would have the same sickly look the other pathetic girls in Skyrim did. Knowing that made him take a bit of interest. Who was this brat? Was she a noble girl?

The thought of the irritating Jarl of Falkreath and that suck up Erikur came to mind and he sneered. Yes, she had to be a noble. Only nobles seemed to have this thought as if their worthless lives were on par with the Thalmor.

The Jarl blinked and his steward went to fetch the paper, reading it over. “You… killed the leader?” he asked and she snorted, giving him a look that would freeze over the Summerset Isles.

“No, I was passing by and thought I would lie for some coin,” she sneered. “Of course I killed him! His blood has stained my clothes and hair and his rotting skull is in my bag! Now give me my payment!”

Faleen gripped her sword hilt and Raerek stared at her in shock, his body stiff but his fingers gripped the letter tight showing his outright displeasure. Ondolemar found himself grinning, watching the girl in interest, if only to see if Igmund would get some balls and throw her in jail but he once again showed his weak leadership and lowered his head, not looking at her as he spoke to his steward. “Raerek, get her coin.”

His steward only happily left to fetch the money leaving the arrogant brat to walk down the stairs and pace in front of the throne. Her eye caught his and he stared down at the Nord, noticing her height. She was a small little wench, plump around her hips. Not attractive to someone as elegant and intelligent as him but he could see how the bitch could be bed. “What are you looking at, Altmer shit?”

He heard his guards behind him stiffen, the Markarth guards looking to her immediately and reaching for their weapons when he felt his own cheek twitch. What a bold little bitch. “Excuse me?” he tried to sound pleasant, for show, before he advanced on her. “You want to say that again?”

She spit on the stones, throwing her head back to look at him. “What,” she clucked her tongue. “Are you looking at, you green-skinned elven shit?”

He smiled back at her. Oh, he was going to ruin this little Nordic girl. “Pardon me,” he raised his head up to look down at her making her eyes flash with anger. “But I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

She reached down to her side, touching the axe that was strapped to her belt and he felt his fingertips light on fire. He almost wanted to beg her to start a fight so he could crush her skull and tear her inferior flesh. And as if she would ever get a hit in before that happened. Nords; they were so stupid in their confidence. Such a race was beneath him to even touch but if one wanted to get punished, he wouldn’t deny them of that right.

She seemed to be unstrapping the handle when the steward came back. She stopped, glaring at him before going over to grab the bag from Raerek’s hands making the old man stiffen and shake in anger. “Whatever,” she shrugged before heading down the stairs, shoving past the Silver-Blood idiot who stood in her way and she was out the bronze doors making the tension in the room pass.

Ondolemar ceased the fire in his hands and behind him his men lowered their arms, visibly upset she had left. 

“You should have killed her,” one told him and he merely smiled before looking to the Jarl who was shaking his head as Raerek came to complain. Faleen relaxed her shoulders but her eyes still held her fury. Whoever that Nordic wench was, she had sent a wave of tension and anger through the court. Ondolemar found it a bit amusing; only a bit. 

Such a thing mouthing off to him was inexcusable. Inferior races insulting him… ha! The Nords were so backwards and stupid it was a gift that they had come. Without the domain, little bastards like that could walk around acting as if their lives were worthwhile, as if they had meaning. He cracked his fingers before continuing on with his patrol, whistling so his agitated men fell in line. He would let it pass, for today only. After all, she had annoyed the court which was something he even fancied to do at times.

Though, the more he thought of it, the more he did agree with his guard. He should have killed her or at least cut her cheeks. He would have to ask Elenwen if she knew of such an unruly thing, if there was any rumors or whispers of her within the embassy. Just in case she showed up again and thought she could insult him. Then he would teach her.

\--

He sat at the back of the party, sipping the wine in his hands and watching the men and women who walked in, trying so hard to please their diplomat and race. Elenwen played them all with impeccable grace but when they were done shaking her hand and in the large hall mingling, she had wiped her own on a cloth, giving her men a look of disgust before feigning pleasantries. A true, wonderful Thalmor. He would raise his glass to her later.

He noticed that irritating Jarl of Falkreath walk in, accompanied by two Altmer women. Why on earth they stood next to a Nord baffled him but he wasn’t in the mood to inquire. He hated speaking to Nords on the best of days and preferred his place at the back, alone.

That little blonde brat entered his mind and he found himself looking at the pompous Jarl, judging him. Too young to have fathered the bitch. A sister? Half-sister? He couldn’t see any real resemblance in them for them to have been close as blood but Nords were an odd bunch. They rescued surplus children and would call them their own even if the blood was not right.

He looked into his glass. Dare he ask? Elenwen had been no help. When he came to inquire she had pulled out some dossiers but remarked that such a girl – which sounded as plain and boring as all the rest of the Nordic fillies – was not on her list. She had others to hunt down and so did he, she had reminded him. He agreed but it still weighed on his mind.

Elven shit. A human telling him, a Mer, a superior race that he was dung. What a joke! He would have laughed but the anger overtook him and he had to sip his wine to calm himself. These people in this land were disgusting.

He looked up, watching that inferior Jarl walk away from Elenwen, muttering something to his women as he did and the one left to fetch them a drink leaving him alone with the black-haired Altmer. He let out a sigh, downing the drink. He did dearly want to teach that blonde wench a lesson and he would have to inquire. He pushed himself off the bench and skirted the edge of the hall, focused on them.

The snot-nosed Jarl was chatting lowly now with his Altmer and Ondolemar finally recognized her from the first party he attended last month; she was his Thane, he recalled. He remembered she was some sort of a mage with a master level of destruction knowledge, which was admirable for their race but serving a Nord made her weak in his eyes. If she was true to her ancestors, she would be ruling that Hold instead of serving it. Their conversation ceased when he came near.

“Can I help you?” the black-haired bastard drawled and his Thane gave him a look before focusing on him. Ondolemer tried hard not to sneer. He wanted answers, not to actually engage in conversation with them.

He was about to speak when the steward came back, wine glasses in her hand which she hastily distributed to her Jarl and the Thane. He took his goblet with an air of superiority, probably because he was being served by his kind which further disgusted him but nothing was said. The steward turned to him.

“Greetings, Ondolemar,” she smiled at him, her golden eyes warm. He gave her a smile in return, disappointed in her but still enjoying her pleasant manners. He had to admit, if she was within the embassy, he might actually wish to court her. She had fair hair, nice cheekbones and he could see by looking at her she would most likely breed well-rounded and strong children. Her genes were good. But alas, serving a Nord.

“Greeting, Nenya,” he bowed and he focused on her sister-kin, the Thane. Her name escaped him but he bowed to her as well making her fidget and bow deep to him. No doubt that was taught. The girl didn’t seem like she had ever stepped foot on their beloved homeland and seen what her ancestors had done and were capable of. It was always such a shame meeting an Altmer who had strayed from their potential but he couldn’t help it. No doubt when the Dominion would take over, she would either be enslaved or killed.

For one thing, her dark hair bothered him. It was too close to that Nordic bastard’s. He straightened and looked down at him, not bothering to bow at all which caused the Jarl to tighten his jaw. He did not bow to pigs.

“Greetings… What was it? Dengeir?” he asked with a fair bit of amusement. The Nord’s fingers tightened around his glass and he could see his teeth grit behind his closed mouth. That Thane of his gently put her hand on his arm as if to calm him and Ondolemar stared at her. No doubt she would be killed. Showing such affection for a Nord…

Nenya spoke up, her voice wavering a little. “Ondolemar, surely you remember Jarl, Siddgeir of Falkreath?” she indicated, giving him a pleading look. “Who is loyal to the empire and the Thalmor?”

Siddgeir snorted and took a drink, hissing as he did. “He knows who I am, don’t you On-dole-mar.” Ondolemar only smiled, taking a drink himself. Nords were too easy. “What do you want?” Siddgeir growled as the two women stood closer to him as if to back him up as the tension between them rose. How pathetic that he had to have his Altmer women try and be his protection. He would have commented but he was, again, not here for pleasantries or amusement he had to remind himself.

“You have a sister?” he outright asked. “Or a cousin or bastard spawn who roams the lands doing bounties?”

Their look of confusion made him sigh. It wasn’t what he wanted to see as a reaction. Siddgeir downed a portion of his drink and shoved the goblet in his steward’s hand. “No. I don’t.”

He talked like her though making him inquire more. “Grow up with any special bitch?” he pried. “A little blonde whore who is just as mouthy as you?

Nenya stiffened. “Blonde?”

The Jarl dug his fingers into his arm, giving him a look before snapping his fingers at his steward. “Get me more wine,” he demanded before he turned back on him, his eyes dark. Nenya stood, opening her mouth but she closed it and scurried off to the bar maid. His Thane swallowed and remained a bit closer to him. “I said I don’t. Can’t you hear? Now please, get away from me. Your stench of goats and silver is sickening me.”

Ondolemar raised his head, looking down at him. Goats and silver. It was the second time a Nord was insulting him and he was growing tired of it. He made a move, to intimidate when his Thane stepped forward.

“When you say blonde,” the Altmer cut in making both stare at her, her Jarl more lividly than he did. “Do you mean… A blonde female Nord? Who is young?” She made a motion with her hand around her chest, sweeping it back and forth. “This high?”

Ondolemar came towards her making her shrink back against her Jarl. “You know of her, sister?”

The Nordic bastard stepped forward as if to shield her. “Don’t call my Thane a sister. She is my property, not yours to question! Now I think this conversation is over!”

“S-Siddgeir!” she stuttered and he gripped her arm, pulling her.

“Move, Kjersti! You will not speak until I tell you!” he snapped forcing her to move away from him and down the side of the hall towards the Jarl of Morthal, who stopped drinking to give them a look. Ondolemar sneered. A Nord telling an Altmer he owns her and she accepts it? He bitterly took a drink. He should haul them downstairs for questioning on their closeness just to spite the bastard.

But what pissed him off more was that they knew who he spoke of, obviously. He needed to corral that Altmer away and grill her, maybe give her a tour of the facilities Elenwen had for those unwilling to talk when Nenya walked by him, two goblets in her hand.

“She’s the dragonborn.”

His thoughts stopped and he stared at her but she was already moving towards her Jarl, not looking back. Dragonborn? Who, that Altmer? No, she had mentioned the blonde too. Wait, was she implying-?

The dragonborn?!

The dragonborn.

The dragonborn! What a joke! Surely that little… No. He misheard her. Nenya… She must have had too much to drink or not know who he was referring to. Dragonborn! Legends made up by the Nords of this accursed province to soothe their wounds! There was no such thing as a….

He looked into his wine and back at the trio, their skeever-headed Jarl growling something at the Morthal Jarl who was shaking her head and waving a finger at him as if she was scolding him. His two Altmer’s were faced away from him and stuck to the bastard’s side, eyes forward, intent on staring at their company and he sighed. He would have to try later. When they were sober, perhaps. Or maybe when he was sober. How much had he had already?

“Ondolemar, what are you doing?” a cool voice came from behind him and he turned to see Elenwen, her eyes tired from dealing with Nords and unfamiliar company. He scowled.

“Elenwen… What do you know… of the dragonborn?”

 

\--

 

She entered the keep, kicking mud from her boots onto the stone floor before she strolled past the guards and up towards the throne, her body still dirty and vulgar, her armor of fur now and stinking of death. Ondolemar was nearby, watching, his two guards on a permitted break while he oversaw the visitors to the Jarl from a distance and he almost felt his hands ignite when he caught a glimpse. There she was. The fabled Dragonborn.

She strode up, tossing her head back, that air of overconfidence and superiority hanging over her and he licked his lips. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to bring her down a peg, back to where she belonged. He watched her cross into the throne room before slowly walking forward, listening to the talk.

“You?! What do you want?!” Igmund demanded and he heard her give out a noise of irritation.

“I kill your bandits and bounties and this is what you say? Give me my money! Next time, I’ll let the Forsworn take this city!” she snapped back and Ondolemar snorted. What a show. He watched Raerek, Faleen and Igmund become agitated, looking to each other helpless to the command of the… dragonborn.

He strode forward, feeling the fire in his hands. Elenwen had known nothing of a dragonborn but inquiries did lead them to understand that the thunder heard near Whiterun was the Greybeards calling for her and descriptions of a blonde girl who absorbed souls through killing dragons did match Ondolemar’s. No one knew much else but there were rumors around Riverwood of an unpleasant girl who traded at the store there and the shopkeeper in Falkreath mentioned a ‘particular rude wench who robbed him blind’.

She didn’t seem to have one place where she settled and rarely spoke with locals who she met. When she did, there was friction and finally Elenwen relented and signed an order for Ondolemar to take the girl into custody as he saw fit if she came near Markarth again. Officially, it was for disrupting the Empire but unofficially, she did pique the Thalmor’s interest. Such an unruly girl with that amount of power couldn’t be left to just do as she pleased. There was a chance she could rally up folks against them and Elenwen wasn’t going to wait for that to happen.

She had been clear on one thing, though. “No killing her.”

Ondolemar had sighed when she said it. “May I whip her?”

“You may,” she had remarked as she pulled out a new dossier, scribbling in it furiously. “Whipping, physical harm, sexual teasing and prolonged torture are allowed. Just don’t kill the thing. I don’t need to make excuses on why this… dragonborn’s body is in our dungeon.”

Ondolemar smiled when she said it. “We could easily dispose of the body, dump it in that sea. If someone found it, they may assume bandits…”

“I said no,” she cut in, shutting the journal in irritation before tossing it on the table. “No killing, Ondolemar. Just find out that girl’s secrets. Make sure she tells you her intentions.”

He stared at her as she waited for her coin, her foot practically stamping on the stones. He would know her intentions but not before making her pay for her remarks. Little Nordic whores like her needed to be reminded of their masters and he flicked the flame in his hands, switching it between his palms. He waited until Raerek had left before striding forward and coming up from behind her, when she was distracted with the thought of septims. Before she could react, he snapped her wrists and twisted them behind her making her shout and the guards turn.

Igmund stiffened in his throne. “Ondolemar, what is this?!”

“Hello, Juniper,” he hissed in her ear and she thrashed against him. “Or is it Polaris? Or Letka? Which one of your fake names is it?”

“Let go of me you Thalmor bastard!” she shouted, trying as hard as she could to rip herself away when her right, thin little wrist managed to slip out of his hand. He couldn’t recover it in time and she grabbed a glass dagger at her side, wildly slashing at him. He changed from fire to electricity and took pleasure in sending a long, powerful jolt through her body which caused her to scream and crumble, her legs giving out. He snapped her free wrist back up, forcing her to drop the dagger and hauled her away from the Jarl, towering over her. Her eyes were wild and disorientated. It made him smile and he finally looked up to the pathetic Jarl and his housecarl, who were standing up in shock.

“Sorry, Igmund. Should have mentioned it earlier but I have a bounty out for her so no need to pay this criminal,” he shrugged off. “She is to be put under Thalmor control.”

Igmund seemed shaken and Ondolemar smirked, loving how he reminded them of how easily they could be brought to their knees; especially unruly ones and he watched him sit back down, waving for Faleen to relax. Raerek came back but stopped at the doorway when he saw Ondolemar and his new prisoner, the girl starting to get feeling back. He dragged her out and towards his chambers where he knew he could secure her better.

He was actually disappointed she didn’t put up more of a fight. Electricity was very effective on her, he noted. Either that or she wasn’t as resilient as she looked; he hoped for the latter so his torture could be more satisfying.

Halfway there, though, she began to fight. “You… bastard!” she slurred. “You fucking bastard! Let go of me!”

“Or what?” Ondolemar snorted and she turned, her jaw tight before he saw her take in a breath. He made the mistake of leaning down to hear whatever she had to say and he found a force hitting him, his arms letting go of her as he fell backwards against the stone. All he had made out was something like ‘fus row’ but whatever else she had said had lost him as his ears rang. He turned, hearing a buzzing noise in his ears and he saw a figure run past, blonde hair bouncing as that little bitch ran towards the opening of the Keep. He felt his fingers ache, an electric charge coming through but he didn’t have to use it.

One of his men had saw and had come running, his aim perfect with an icicle fire that had cut her down, her legs collapsing as a spear connected with them. She shrieked like a hagraven, the Markarth guards running towards her now and Ondolemar rubbed his temples before staggering up.

Oh, she was going to pay. He brushed off his robes, ignoring his one guard coming to his side and he shook his head so that the ringing would stop. That little bitch was going to break under him, mark his words. He came down the stairs towards her where the guards had their swords pointed at her, but she remained down, her hand on her leg. Electricity boiled under his skin.

“Move!” he demanded, making the guards turn back and disperse and he focused his aim before shooting a harsh shot of current at her, hitting her and making her scream. He shot again, hitting her leg and her shoulders until she was crying, her entire body jerking and shaking, and her eyes glassy and near death. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her up, ignoring how her legs buckled and struggled and the noises she made in protest. He didn’t care. The more pain, the better.

“Sir-” One of the guards tried to intervene but he gave them one look, reminding them what he would do to their pathetic bodies before he continued dragging his prisoner, his guards falling in line behind him. He hauled the little bitch up the stairs and back to his original destination where he threw her in the stone room he was allotted. She collapsed on the floor and began twitching and whimpering, still in shock. The icicle had faded but her leg was now bleeding from the wound and he looked at it but didn’t care. It was less than what she deserved.

“Tie up her mouth,” he demanded and his guards went to work. “Tie her hands, tie her feet, tie down everything! Take away her weapons! If she moves, electrocute her!” He found his voice shaking and he had to stop, calming himself. If he didn’t, he was going to kill her and despite the desire being there to just burn her into the floor, he had to get a grip and stop acting like a Nord. Still; insolent little uncouth whore!

“Ondolemar,” his one guard said and he sighed, grabbing a goblet and pouring himself some wine, forcing himself to take the time to enjoy it as to further his relaxation. “Ondolemar, she’s bleeding pretty bad.”

“So what? She deserves it,” he growled, the liquid running down his dry throat but he knew what they meant. Don’t kill her, don’t kill her. Oh how he wanted to deny Elenwen’s request just once and send the dragonborn’s head to Summerset in a box! He relented, eventually, and forced a healing potion down her mouth, grabbing her tongue as he did so there would be no more of her voice. She choked, almost retching but she swallowed and he shoved the leather strip against her teeth, leaving her where she lay, letting his guards move to properly bind her. The chains they used made her still but her eyes were back to showing a hidden fire, revenge glowing in them. He sneered.

“Don’t even bother with that,” he growled and before he left, he made sure to kick her. Not hard, for him at least. Just enough to remind her where she was and where she belonged; under his boot. He straightened himself, fixing his robes, before he exited, the roar of the underkeep coming back to him.

What a day. He had actually never imagined that the little brat would ever come back but it seemed like if she cared about anything, it was gold and he thanked the Divines for her greed. Good to put down another cause, for the Dominion and his own satisfaction. Though he wasn’t satisfied.

He bit the inside of his cheek, exhaling through his nose as he felt the fire and anger flow through him. She should be dead. Oh, how she should be a burnt husk on the floor but he had his orders and he knew torture would be better. No, it would be more worthwhile to break her in their embassy and make sure she learned just of her place in the world.

He searched the dark hall for a bottle of wine and when he was sure no one could see him, he drank straight from the bottle like some common Redguard or skooma-addled Khajiit. It was below him to do so but he needed the drink, his throat still dry. Once he was sated, he set the bottle down gently, turning it to make it seem as if it had never been touched and he strode out from the shadows towards the throne, where the Jarl was talking to his meagre court. He swept into the light and their conversation stopped.

“Ondolemar, what was that?!” Igmund stood up to address him and his housecarl and steward stepped back, staring at him with eyes eager for explanation. He owned them none but played along anyways.

“Your little guest, who you were about to pay, is an enemy of the empire,” he said in a high voice, raising his head up to talk down to them as he liked. “A dragonborn, I think you Nords call it. A criminal, really, looking to start trouble. It’s a good thing the Thalmor pay more attention and caught her when we did.”

Igmund shifted uncomfortably at the mention of a dragonborn and Raerek looked at him before shifting to his Jarl. “Surely… Surely that girl was not the fabled dragonborn? The one who will dispel the evil?”

Ondolemar’s smile faded a bit. Leave it to an old man to think so highly of tales. Igmund looked torn from his seat and for a second he almost seemed to wish to give Raerek some sort of hope but he stopped himself. Good. Although, hauling the Jarl in with the little brat would have been interesting.

“You heard the sound, the rumble of the halls. A dragonborn wouldn’t use the voice like that against someone. She’s no better than that Ulfric,” he stopped. “Is… Is that why she was arrested? Is she a Stormcloak? We had no idea-”

He held a hand up. This was going a bit too far and he wasn’t in the mood to chat. “Jarl, you are not in danger. But she is a criminal and I require a cart to take her off to face some justice. I expect you will arrange it as I have some papers to deal with. Make sure the cart is ready by the time we leave and the Thalmor will take her away.”

Igmund nodded and began snapping his fingers. “Raerek, gather a cart and supplies for the trip.” He turned to his housecarl. “Make sure there are guards lining the streets for when they leave. I don’t want a repeat of what happened here outside.”

Ondolemar wrinkled his nose. There wouldn’t be but he remained quiet. Better to let the man do his bidding than force him to explain and take up his time.

“We will get you what you need, Ondolemar,” he complied and he gave him a silent thanks. Once in a while the Nord was useful; not many times but sometimes. He left back to his quarters, the fire still not settling in his body. He paced for a moment, cracking his neck before calmed himself down fully, straightening himself and silently reminding himself of his superiority. He was above them and above this and the girl would pay dearly for all she had done.

He would take her to the embassy where they would start. He would break the dragonborn, get her to reveal what she knew and most importantly, bend to him. If she didn’t, then Elenwen was nearby. Her order could still be changed on not to kill her and allow him to have the sweetest revenge.

 

\-------

 

His entrance had been grand, for show. He brought the gagged and bound dragonborn through the embassy gates on her knees, dragging her with the rope he had secured around her. She had woken up near Dragon Bridge and made such a bloody fuss that he had no choice but to happily shock her – multiple times – back to reality. Which was the reality that she was his prisoner, like it or not.

She didn’t appreciate it the closer they came to the embassy doors and he had decided that if she would act like an animal, he would treat her as such. She was just about as useful as a goat or cow anyways. The rope was long enough to tie around her neck like a dog’s leash and after some test pulls, shown it was effective in making her yield.

He had entered to see Elenwen and some of the guards standing at the top of the stairs looking down at them, her eyes set on the wench struggling under the binds. He smiled up at her and gave the leash a hard tug, sending the dragonborn to the snowy earth. “Is the torture rooms open?”

“They are,” Elenwen said after a moment, still judging the girl. “She is gagged? Why is that?”

Ondolemar pursed his lips. “She’s a dragonborn, my lady, and seems to fancy showing it.” He turned back to glare at the bitch and she snorted, her eyes narrowing. “If it were up to me, I’d cut out your tongue,” he said lowly and she did nothing in return, only continued to stare. Elewen stirred from above them.

“…Pity. I would have liked to have heard her barks,” she turned on her heel and made a motion, dispersing the guards. Some followed her while two came down the steps and made a path to her solarium, leading the way for Ondolemar and his subject. He dragged her, ignoring her attempts to kick the ground and stop the process. There was nothing she could do anyways as their superior wizards patrolled the grounds and if she somehow eluded them, there were guards and Elenwen. She was trapped so she could struggle all she wanted but it wouldn’t make a difference.

He chuckled to himself at her helplessness and waited as the guards opened the hall, standing on either side of the door once they had. He gave them a smirk in thanks and entered the grand Solarium, relaxing as he smelled lavender and aging books in the air; the smell of intellectual nurturing and peace, unlike the Understone keep and Markarth. This is what the Thalmor held in high regard, not paltry silver or unpleasant mead. He felt right at home, almost seeking out some fine wine and cheese but his thrashing prisoner detracted him from doing so. Best to get her strapped down before he enjoyed himself. 

“Come on, little cow,” he mocked, dragging her in and he heard the sounds of a chair scraping against the floor, a Thalmor coming out from behind a desk. He turned to greet Rulindil, though not cheerfully. The Altmer was irritating at the best of times. “Greetings, Rulindil.”

The Thalmor gave him a once over before looking to the girl on the floor. He rose a brow. “Ondolemar… Dragging little girls home now? How Nordic of you.”

He tried not to sneer at him but somehow his lip moved on its own. “Are you so blind by your licking of peasant boots that you don’t recognize a prisoner anymore? Out of my way. I was given permission to use the dungeons.”

He was given a snort in return. “I at least don’t kiss the backside of a Nord in a stone ruin. And if you forget, you need a key? Or do you wish to unlock the door like some common Argonian boot?”

He glared at him. He didn’t have time for this, he wanted the bitch behind him immobilized so he bit down the insults he wanted to make, hating that he had to give the older Thalmor a victory so he could get what he wanted. He could feel his smugness radiate off of him and the Torturer went back to his desk, plucking out a key before moving down the stairs. He came back up after a moment and sat down, picking up a goblet to swirl and revel in his supposed win.

Ondolemar just moved past, harshly pulling the rope making the dragonborn choke and she was dragged down the stairs, stumbling and staggering, nearly falling in a comical matter but she righted herself before he could witness it. No matter. He shortened the leash, making her stand fully on shaking legs as he led her through the door like a prized pig. He wanted all inside to see what filth he had caught.

There was only a single guard inside at the door, his shoulders slumped a little until he detected a noise. He stiffened, held fast onto the hilt of his weapon and Ondolemar rolled his eyes. He should tell Elenwen of Rulindil’s lazy guards; maybe it would knock him down a peg. He moved past towards the second stairwell, smug as he did.

She thrashed on the step, nearly making him fall and he turned around and slapped her for it, making the guard snort. He let out an angry breath and glared at the stupid cow, seeing her smile from behind her gag, her cheek becoming red. How dare she make a fool of him! He harshly yanked the rope and she choked, hopefully regretting her little show.

He would break her in, though. He actually began to contemplate it a he saw the cells; it had been so long since his last prisoner. He could still hear the cries to that false god come from the man’s lips before his soul left the world; a little bit too much electricity had done it on his part. He learned his lesson but was still intent on doing as he pleased. The whore behind him earned his full wrath and he wished to distribute it onto her.

He led her to one of the cells at the back and opened it, shoving her in. She staggered in and turned to give him a hateful look which he enjoyed to see. How deliciously defiant she was. He kicked her in the stomach and when she doubled over he grabbed her wrists, untying one.

She made a fist and he grabbed her hair, wrenching her face up. “You wish to fight back?” he brought up a hand and sparks flew from it making her pupils dilate. “You must really enjoy these shock treatments.”

The fist was immediately unfurled and he grinned, pretending to lower his hand but he still wanted a bit more taste of revenge. He grabbed her leg and shot a wave of magic through his arm, causing her to scream from behind the leather gag and collapse, her body convulsing for a second and a gloved handprint neatly burned onto her thigh. He used the time to force her wrists into the shackles on the wall, making her half-crouch uncomfortably before he locked them in place and stood back.

Her eyes were wild and he could see a large amount of drool soaking the leather. Well, there had to be some consequences. He was just pleased he got his point across before he cracked his fingers and pulled out his dagger, twirling it in his hands. She tried to focus on him and when she finally did she jerked against her restraints. He only smiled and walked towards her. Her fear was a pleasure to see.

“You’re too well dressed for being a prisoner,” he remarked and he easily cut through the seams of her fur armor, the skirt falling to the ground revealing her cloth panties that hugged her body tight. He actually found himself staring as he looked at the straps digging into her flesh. A size too small for her body; he used the tip of the knife to pull the edge around her waist to see a distinctive red line imbedded in her skin and he snorted. Women and their vanity.

“Stuff yourself into those to make yourself feel thinner?” he chuckled and those eyes of fire came back and she muttered something from under her gag. He clucked his tongue, interested in what she said and he gripped her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks just in case she pulled something as he pulled the gag back a bit.

“Go suck a dick!” she spat out, saliva hitting his cheek and he shoved the leather back between her lips. Such vulgar words from such an ugly girl. He wiped his face off with his sleeve. Now he was going to have to wash them.

“Apologies, dragonborn,” he mocked. “But unlike you, I don’t do such things. Now, shall we get rid of your top? Like I said, you’re too dressed for your cell and current status.” He reached up, the knife cutting a few seams and he was a bit surprised to see her furrow her brows and shake her head.

What was her problem?

He roughly sliced up, cutting through the string and the top fell off to reveal her chest, bare and bouncing. Well now, he didn’t expect that. It made sense, considering how well fed she was – like a stuffed pig – but still he was a bit… impressed. Impressed? Yes, damn it, impressed. The women he was used to could barely fill out a dress but it seemed the dragonborn could.

It piqued his interest a bit. He could maybe use this. He could see how uncomfortable she was as he stared at her, her cheeks turning a shade of red and he reached down and pulled at one of her nipples making her eyes go wide and her back arch to get away. “Don’t think I’m interested, whore. You’re smaller than what I’m used to.”

She glared at him and purposely rolled her eyes, saying something which he really shouldn’t care what, but he found himself pulling her gag back.

“Big talk for an elf who has probably taken seven cocks up his arse,” she said in that venomous tone and her felt his patience wear thin. He wouldn’t tolerate her insulting him again. He slapped her, enjoying the cry that came from it and stuffed the gag back in her mouth, tying the ends a bit tighter to cause her discomfort. He will break this bitch, mark his words. By the time he’s done she will be lavishing his boots with her saliva.

“Have fun with your insults while you can,” he spat, sheathing his knife. “I’ll be back when I feel like it. Oh, and-?” he paused. Her name. Well, he actually didn’t know it since she used so many aliases so he found himself at a loss for a second. He finally picked something to call her just for the sake of moving the conversation along. “Subject A? Get comfortable. You’ll be like that for a while.”

He watched her shoulder shake, laughing at him from behind the gag, his threat not even noticed and he scowled. He shot a jolt of electricity at her turning her satisfaction into a scream and he left, shutting the cell behind him. Divines above, he should have thought of a name before this and save himself the embarrassment!

No matter. He had time tonight. He could actually relax for once and maybe clean himself in a sanitized facility instead of the dirty dwemer pipes that lined the Understone Keep. He would feast on wines, cheeses and breads, get in some reading and sleep on a bed that his superior body deserved and then in the morning, see how the cow was doing.

He climbed the stairs and suddenly her bare chest came into his mind making him frown. No, he would not think of her unless it was dreams of her writhing under him in pain while he sheared her flesh from her Nordic bones. She was much too unpleasant and homely to think of and tonight, he deserved to lavish himself and fill his mind with the luxuries of their superior race. Tomorrow he would begin their fun, though, if only to remind her on who was better by far. He went upstairs and passed by Rulindil with a smirk. Elenwen would see who the expert Thalmor torturer was. 

He went to his given bed that night with a grin, sinking into a proper goose-down bed with his stomach full of good food. The thought of the dragonborn in the dungeons beneath the embassy only made his sleep more sound, the praise he would get for breaking such a thing enticing.

\--

He woke in the morning to the sounds of voices near his room and the clattering of plates. There was a distinct smell in the air of smoked venison and berry tarts and he lay in his bed, enjoying the feeling of the warmth before he rose, fetching his robes. He found Elenwen in the dining area reading as she ate, some of her subjects around her.

Rulindil wasn’t there and Ondolemar happily sat down once he noticed, fetching some bread to fill his plate before choosing the cut of meat he wanted. He was only given adequate cuts in Markarth and he was eager to get back into eating food that he deserved. Elenwen didn’t look up from her book but she spoke to him nonetheless when he poured himself some wine. “I hear your prisoner was making a racket last night.”

He paused. “What sort of racket?”

 

“Kicking the bars, muffled screaming, barking, childish things,” she flipped a page, smoothing the spine delicately after she did. “I suggest you go down there and make sure she behaves.”

“I will,” he said, gritting his teeth and he reached over to grab his drink when Elenwen cleared her throat.

“Now.”

He looked to his meal; he hadn’t eaten yet, how could she order him out? He decided to do the polite thing and ask even though he really wished not to. “May I at least eat?”

“No,” Elenwen said in a harsh voice and she looked up, finally, her expression cold. “I will not tolerate noisy prisoners bothering me while I work in my own study. She’s your prisoner and your responsibility and you will get the same treatment as her if she is not put in line. Now go silence her or I will go and make sure she is quiet for her entire duration here!”

The tension in the room was unbearable and Ondolemar bit his cheek, trying hard not to appear furious. So much for a nice morning in the Embassy. He rose, leaving the food on his plate and gave Elenwen a bow; mostly out of spite. For her orders and that little bastard dragonborn who could have waited to be flogged. When he was out of the dining area he felt the fire rage through his hands, his emotions a little uncontrollable. That little cow, he was going to make sure she paid for costing him a meal and affecting him like this! He burst through the doors outside and sucked in a breath.

Say what he would about the stinking ruin of Markarth, at least it didn’t snow there. He could feel his robes stiffen under the cold. He nearly ran across the courtyard to the Solarium, trying his best to be dignified about it but the temperature was too low for him to be bothered. He caught a glimpse of one of the guards, their face contorted in unhappiness and he hissed out a breath. Damned Skyrim; if the province just bowed to them as they should, they wouldn’t be in the lousy place.

He was in the Solarium before the cold could annoy him more and the feeling of warmth made his shoulders sag. He could smell a fire going mixed in with some sort of pine smell; possibly from the logs. It was unusually pleasant but when he heard the low sound of iron being struck from downstairs, his mood disappeared. That little bitch. He swept towards the doors, ignoring Rulindil who was sitting at his desk eating a hearty meal – the bastard – and he practically flew down the stairs towards the dragonborn’s cell.

He found her in the position he had left her in but now she was seething in rage just as he was. He noticed the bottom of her feet were red and he sneered, intending to do much worse than leave her skin blushed. Her eyes were as wild as a dragon’s, her leather gag thoroughly soaked and her wrists were raw where he could see them showing from under the shackles. Hardly punishment, in his opinion. He simply turned and ventured towards a room, opening it to reveal Elenwen’s collection, a steady row of devices at his disposal.

He was going to make her pay. He felt the fire within his hands boil but he calmed himself, focusing on the tools. He could pry off her fingernails… though the thought of touching her dirty hands wasn’t pleasing. He could burn the soles of her feet so she wouldn’t be such a nuisance but… Who was he kidding. He’d burn her entire body if he started. Little whore.

He picked through the items, the maces, the bullwhips and barbed steel restraints. There were more items suited to making a Nord male bend than a female and he was looking at a long iron rod when he sighed and dropped it, going for a whip. He was spending too much time in here, although he hoped it would make her more nervous. He very much craved to see her whimper in fear.

He opened a large wardrobe panel to witness the various whips, testing a few before plucking out one with a square leather end. He slapped it on his palm a few times to note how it would react before he came back to the cell, unlocking it. She gave him a defiant look, even when he held up the whip. He calmed himself from using it across her face, the fire inside him still not subsiding.

“Heard you were being difficult last night,” he commented, advancing on her but she still gave him a look as if he didn’t scare her. Divines above he was going to change that. “Seems as if I should have taught you a lesson before leaving.”

She rolled her eyes and shifted, her legs shaking a little as she did. He knew the position was uncomfortable – being slightly bent at the knees usually was – but he had been hoping after twelve hours she wouldn’t be able to stand. He’d remedy that. He brought out the chains that were hooked to the ceiling and moved her from one set of shackles to the other, electrocuting her as he did when she tried to punch him. He pulled the chains enough so that her feet lifted off the ground and he threw his hood back, running a hand through his hair. “Now, isn’t this more suited for you, hm? Hanging like a cow about to be slaughtered.”

She said nothing and he ignored her, making sure the chain links were secure on the wall so she wouldn’t fall or have the ability to escape if it failed.

The position of her hanging was quite enjoyable for him when he did face her; mostly because of her helplessness. He studied her smooth back, her ugly pale skin that barely had any scars and when he went around to face her front he was greeted with her giving him a look. Not of fear or anger but of… superiority. As if… As if even with her in such a position, nearly naked and bound, she was better than him.

He fought back the fire in his hand. He wanted fear and her bending to him, not her acting like a self-righteous noble. “What are you so smug about?” he spat and she raised a brow, her voice humming from under the gag. He removed it, if only out of curiosity.

“Your chains and electricity are getting old,” she rasped. “You fall back on them so much with me. Can’t you do anything else or are you who they send when they want to remind everyone that the Thalmor are weak?”

His cheek twitched. Little slut. “I thought I would take it a bit easy on you, actually,” he lied, trying not to show how much she was angering him. Showing emotions to the enemy was a sign of weakness and he was anything but weak. “You’re so brittle, as most of your kin are, and I was given orders not to kill you. Which is what would happen if I used my full potential, dear cow.”

“Not likely. I’ve had trolls hurt me more than you,” she laughed and his smile disappeared, his hand coming up to strike her. She only laughed harder once he did, the slap not even affecting her running mouth. “Elven shit! You can’t even hurt me! A troll does better! A bear! A wolf! You’re weaker than an animal!”

He whipped her across the face and the scream that came out was delicious. He did it again, sending a harsh mark across her mouth making her cry again. She snapped her head back and took in a breath but he was ready. He recognized her voice and he ripped out his dagger before she could speak, the dull end slamming against her neck causing her to choke.

“Do it,” he huffed. “Use your voice and I will cut out your tongue.”

She glared down at him before her lips curled up. “I thought… you needed information from me… Cut out my tongue and you lose that, idiot.”

“I never said I needed anything from you,” he smiled right back. It was true, she was merely assuming and he could tell. Stupid Nord. “Officially, we want you to chat about what you’re up to. Not that I care. Unofficially? You’re here because you insulted me and I can take my revenge. No strings attached… other than not plunging a knife into your fat belly.” Her smile disappeared; it was lovely to see. “So? What say you now?”

She closed her mouth, her cheeks moving and when he leaned back a little, waiting for her to speak or shout or anything, she spat in his face. It hit his cheek and he flinched when it did. He closed his eyes, his anger reaching a near-breaking point and he delicately wiped it away with his index finger, taking off his glove afterward. 

“I say you can eat shit.”

He let out a small laugh. “You little bitch…”

The fire in him let loose and he grabbed her by the hair, choking her with his free hand, sending sparks through her body from where he had contact. She screamed so deliciously loud and it vibrated against his palm as her body moved to get away. Uncouth little Nordic whore! She would regret the day she insulted him and put her DNA on his superior form! He let go, only to force her body around, the chains twisting above and he attacked her back with the whip, paying special attention to her lower body where it seemed to affect her the most.

He became blinded, ignoring the time, only focused on how much pain he could inflict on the little thing. When the chains twisted, he forced her back, electrocuting her when his skin touched hers, enjoying the sounds of her screams, her yells. There were no words or mercy but that suited him fine.

By the time his rage had settled and her voice had become hoarse and weak, he was sweating and shaking, his nerves frayed from his display of emotion. The room felt ten degrees hotter than it had that morning and he had to wipe his brow, loosening his collar. At least her back was covered in red welts from his shameful display, some which may never fade which silently pleased him. He licked his lips; gods above his throat was dry. He needed some water or something but he couldn’t leave her now. Not when he hadn’t heard her properly beg.

The chains twisted above her, moving to their original position and she was slowly swung back so her front was facing him, her hair sticking to her face, tears rolling down her cheeks. Good, he thought. At least he made her cry. That was well enough to reward himself.

He was about to fetch some water for himself when her voice slowly drifted out. “It’s… sad.”

“What?” he asked, stepping towards her. She shook her head, her bare chest heaving.

“It’s… so sad… you’re so weak,” she raised her eyes, fire still glowing within them. “That hurt less… than a Sabre cat’s scratching.”

He stared at her before he dropped the whip and both his hands lit on fire, the flames nearly consuming his arms. Her body light up, golds and oranges dancing across her stomach, her breath hitching from the heat and he couldn’t help himself. Damn his orders, she was going to burn. “You wretched little wench!”

“Ondolemar!” a voice called out and he took a step back, restraining himself from turning the dragonborn into a husk. Divines he wanted to do so with an incredible need – then perhaps piss on her ashes once he did but… He lowered his hands and collected himself before stepping out of the cell to look to the balcony where Elenwen stood. She was holding a red journal and looking displeased. “Ondolemar, come here.”

The dragonborn snickered and he bit his cheek. He reached behind his head, pulling his hood up and when Elenwen turned, he swiftly went back into the cell and kicked the bound girl in the stomach causing her to cry out and choke. If he was lucky, she’d swallow her tongue and die but she didn’t.

He walked up the stairs, ignoring the sounds of shallow laughs from her cell and he met Elenwen’s sharp eyes, the Thalmor diplomat looking displeased. She waved a finger and he had no choice but to follow on her command like some common stable hand. She led him upstairs to the seating area of her Solarium where Rulindil sat, a glass of wine in his hand. He gave him a smug look and he rolled his eyes but kept his insults inside himself; he had a feeling Elenwen wasn’t in the mood to hear them. Truthfully, for once he didn’t wish to make them. He felt tired, as he usually did when being forced to display feelings.

She sat down, crossing her legs as she did and she snapped her fingers, a guard appearing with a small plate with a piece of tart on it. Another appeared with a goblet and she took them with ease, swirling the glass before indulging in a drink. Ondolemar felt his throat tighten but he did not voice his opinion; it probably didn’t want to be heard anyways.

She took her time with her drink before she spoke. “You seem to be getting a bit out of hand with her, Ondolemar.”

“Nothing she doesn’t deserve,” he came right back. He wasn’t going to sit here and justify why she needed to be beaten. Yes, he got a bit out of control but the cow invoked something in him. She was a Nord, the dragonborn, and her making fun of him was disgusting; her smugness needed to be crushed.

He was relieved when the guards came forward with bread and wine for him, taking the glass with restrained eagerness and he caught Rulindil giving him a look, as if waiting for him to chug it like a Breton at meadery. He sneered at him and put the glass down, pretending not to be interested in it. He would not give anyone satisfaction in witnessing him indulge in anything.

The sound of metal meeting silver made his head turn and he watched Elenwen cut into her tart, her drink on the end table near her, her form elegant and poised. He straightened his back and looked to her, imitating her stance. Despite how she annoyed him sometimes – he was older than her so her giving him orders was a bit maddening at times – he had to admit she always reminded him on why the Thalmor were here; were the highest tier amongst all the races.

She was as pretty as the sea around the Isles and with an air of cruelty and intellectualism that made him give her respect. She was not loud or boorish or a kicking, vulgar mess like this guest in the dungeons. She was perfect and poised, eating delicately, letting only fine wine pass her lips and, above all, a pure Altmer. There were no stains in her bloodline, no sudden rushes to make with an Imperial whore or make do with a Bosmer cousin.

He took his wine, ignoring Rulindil and sipped it, thinking of when the Dominion would come. He couldn’t wait to stand on the backs of Nord and Breton slaves or burn the entire Reach until there was nothing but rocks left. Every shrine to that mortal Talos would be destroyed and they, the Thalmor, would finally be able to properly look down upon the inferiors.

He was imagining making the dragonborn into a cow and forcing her to work on a farm pulling machinery and eating slop when Elenwen disrupted his thoughts.

“You needed to get away from her,” she said simply. “She is antagonizing you too much. You’re too unrestrained with her.”

He said nothing but his jaw tightened in response. “With all due respect, Elenwen, her insults aren’t just towards me but to all of us. I won’t let that slide.”

“I don’t expect you to,” she replied, cutting into the tart more, using the piece she had broken away to swipe at the excess juice pooling on the saucer. “But you need to be more professional. Don’t forget that Nords are proud and breaking them can be easy or difficult. But they all have a weakness… you just need to find it.”

He merely inhaled a breath and took his wine, sampling it again as he had forgotten the taste. Sweet but not enough to make him gag. It was passable as wine to serve to lower mer races but not for them. He found Elenwen staring at him and he set down his goblet. “Yes, my lady.”

She cut another piece of the tart with her fork and slipped it into her mouth. “Good.”

They remained in silence, her eating and him staring into his glass. He heard Rulindil shift from next to him and the Thalmor set his glass down and bowed to Elenwen before going back to his desk, pulling out some ledgers. Ondolemar tried not to snort; did that idiot ever do anything?

He turned back, watching the diplomat as she continued to eat and he frowned. So he needed to find her weakness but she was upsetting him too much? What was he supposed to do, be gentle like a father scolding a daughter? The thought made him laugh. He wished to strip her bones, feed her to wolves, electrocute her into a pile of ash.

After his amusing thoughts made their rounds in his head, he found himself calm but still awkward, unsure of what to do. He contemplated getting up to head to the main building and possibly read or get some exercise using his blade when Elenwen set her plate down and stood up, straightening her robes. “Ondolemar.”

“Yes?”

She hesitated before speaking, her eyes on the windows and her voice low. “I want to know that girl’s secrets, Ondolemar. You will not get it right now by using your means,” she practically insulted and his cheek twitched. “So I am going to tell you something.”

He waited, not with baited breath but with uneasiness. He didn’t know what to expect from her.

She opened her mouth, closed it, before opening it again, her voice soft like a bird’s feather floating in a breeze. “I know more about breaking Nords than anyone, as you know. It is why I am here and not back home,” she paused. “You see, Ulfric…”

He stiffened at the name. He could feel his heart pound, unsure he wanted to hear more of this when she continued, leaving him no choice.

“Ulfric was broken with an ebony… item. His pride and stubbornness were no match for it, as most Nords aren’t. They either bend from pain as their stubbornness can’t withstand it, or from… something else, which they cannot stand.” she brushed back a few loose strands of hair as she said it making him frown. What item? Bend to what, other than pain? He didn’t see anything ebony in the cupboard and he had no idea what she was referring to. “I suspect that’s what your little whore needs.”

He was about to ask when she tossed a key into his lap and moved towards the stairs, snapping her fingers so her guards, who had been stationed near the columns, followed. Ondolemar stared at it, wrinkling his nose as he did. He was curious, he had to admit. He wasn’t proud that Elenwen was telling him how to deal with his prisoner but she was more acquainted with them than he, as she had said. It was common knowledge she had gotten that hound-faced Jarl to submit to her but only whispers of how filled the air when she was not around.

He pocketed the key, feeling a bit better. She was giving him access to a secret, something only she knew. This was actually exciting, the more he thought of it. A tool to break the dragonborn – the same used to break that Stormcloak idiot. He imagined spikes or an evil enchantment. Could it be a daedric weapon?

He stood up, in a better mood as he did. He walked back down towards the dungeon, flashing Rulindil a triumphant look which made the older Thalmor scowl at him. He had the key to something not even that bastard would have seen. Oh, what a day! What fun this would be now!

He ignored the guard as he entered, sweeping down the steps to go back to Elenwen’s closet. There was no strongbox or chest within it so he moved to another door, where more weapons lay. He could hear the dragonborn in her cell making noise, trying to free herself or amuse herself, whatever. He would soon have her broken and he eagerly dug through the wardrobes, looking for what he needed to unlock.

Only there was very little items that needed to be unlocked, other than a strongbox. The key didn’t fit into it so he tried somewhere else, getting a little frustrated. In the end, he came out of the room, vexed, until he saw a chest near the cells. It was master locked, everyone knew but he remembered hearing only dossiers and books resided in it.

He looked to the key before he sighed and decided to try his luck. He almost gaped when it clicked open and he was given access to such a secretive but out-in-the-open chest. Inside, the first things he did see were in fact, dossier’s. Numerous ones, notes on the Empire, on the Jarls of the holds – he did sneak a peek at a few. Seemed the Stormcloak boot-licker Laila fancied her guards. He rolled his eyes. Nordic nobles, always looking for someone of lower birth to pursue so they could create drama. He could write an entire book on the subject.

He flipped through more papers, sketches of criminals and contact names when a heavy box got his attention. It was black, as if made from ebony itself and he exhaled, feeling his fingers twitch. It had to be a daedric weapon, it just had to. He almost didn’t want to touch it in fear that if he did, he would become bound by something but he recalled Elenwen had used it and she did not seem to be cursed.

He wondered which item of lore it could be. He wasn’t a follower of them but he knew their weapons worked best on mortals such as stupid Nords. He tried to recall the names of some of the items, wondering what prince's could make Ulfric yield. Molag Bal? Namira? He surely hoped it wasn't something Namira's. What about Mehrunes Dagon?

He pulled the box out, closing the chest so it could be placed on top of it and he stared at it, fingers twitching. It seemed to shine under the light.

Ondolemar savoured the feeling of satisfaction before he opened it.

He stared.

This…

Was not what he expected.

He shut the box and put it back in the dresser.

 

\-------

 

“Elenwen,” he said again as she dipped her quill into the inkwell, scratching the roll of paper with an unmatched level of determination. “Elenwen… that…”

She didn’t look up from her paper, concentrating on it instead of him. “What, Ondolemar? I’m busy.”

He shook his head, ignoring her. “No. No! No, I will not use… use that!”

“Use what?” she asked in a bored tone, dipping her quill into the ink once again and he advanced on her, radiating his discomfort until she finally stopped with a sigh and put her quill down. She then raised a hand, putting her elbow on the desk so she could rest her chin on her open palm and her eyes flashed with annoyance at him. He stared back; he would not be intimidated by this.

She rolled her eyes after a bit, most likely finally acknowledging what he was referring to before plucking her quill up again to scribble on the parchment. “Whether mer or man… always the same thing. What is the matter? If it works, then use it.”

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head more, adamant on this. “No. No. No! No! NO!” She put down her quill once more, a bit angry in doing so, and propped her head up on her elbows, becoming irritated as she stared at the wall. “Elenwen, that… That is not a torture tool!”

“I said sexual teasing – which can be torture – was permitted,” she sighed. “What part of that didn’t you understand?!”

He wasn’t explaining himself. It actually disgusted him to think about it and he felt his frustration bubble in his throat. She entrusted something to him but if he had known, he would have refused. The thought of that Stormcloak bastard being broken sent him into a bit of hysterics.

“That thing… Those things! Those things are not used for torture! Especially on that-! On-! On women!” he said and he regretted it immediately when she glared at him, the room feeling colder. “I am not pleasuring her!”

“You are such an idiot,” she sighed and she got up, straightening her robes as she did. “Do I have to really explain how a woman’s body works or can I spare myself the embarrassment?”

“I know how they work! I have bedded a few girls, you know!” he cut in and she let out a breath.

“Wow. What an expert you must be on the subject then,” she insulted and he glared at her back. This was pointless. He nearly threw up his hands and left but he had a feeling Elenwen would just call him back and either send him to Markarth and deal with the dragonborn or publically humiliate him in a very lavish manner. He instead began to pace, his fury and embarrassment fighting within his body and Elenwen leaned against her desk, crossing her arms.

“What is the matter with you?” she asked, watching him and he snorted. He could barely begin.

“I hate her,” he finally said. “I hate her! I hate her! I hate that little fat cow that is in the dungeon! Alright?” he snapped. “I want her dead! I want her burned! I want to see her withering in pain, crying out for mercy! I want her to fear us!” Elenwen said nothing, but her lips pursed. “And that thing! That ebony goddamn, oblivion-sent thing-!”

She rolled her eyes once again. “Calm down, Ondolemar, a dildo is not oblivion sent.”

He stopped, holding in a breath of disgust as he did. He shook his head, almost losing his train of thought. “I will not bring that girl any pleasure. If I am a true Thalmor, she will be screaming in pain when I am through with her.”

“What part of sexual teasing do you not understand?” she sighed. “Again, do I really have to spell it out? You’re older than me, for Kynareth’s sake. You should know how to do this.”

“I am not pleasuring her!” he nearly shouted again and she began rubbing her temples, muttering under her breath.

 

“Did I ever – ever! – say pleasure her? No! So stop saying that! It’s pissing me off!” she shot back, her voice raising. “That is to tease her! You are doing nothing with putting pain to her, she’s too stubborn to let it show when you do make her finally bend from eletrocuting her, you will kill her! We both know that! And shut your mouth! I am not done!”

He begrudgingly closed his mouth, his protest lost.

“You are to take it into the other direction, you fool! If she is resistant to pain, then maybe pushing her buttons will work. Tease her, Ondolemar. Tease her but do not let her come. Continue to do so until she has your name on your lips-”

“That’s disgusting!” he cut in and her eyes flashed.

“When she is begging for you, then ask her what I want to know. She will tell you,” she finished and he tried hard not to look utterly horrified and angered by her request but he knew he was failing. He closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself but he found it slipping.

“I can’t.”

“You will.”

“If I refuse?”

“Then say hello to Igmund,” she broke their eye contact, moving back to her seat to gently pick up her quill, twirling it in her hands. “For you will go to Markarth and be stuck there for the rest of our deployment while I take care of the pet downstairs.”

He nearly huffed but kept it in. The thought of forever sleeping on those stone beds, the drafty corridors and the endless complaining about Forsworn made him twitch. He was not in a rush to get back. He closed his eyes, counting to himself and when he had a clearer head, he looked to Elenwen, who was back to writing.

He needed a way out of this.

“I can’t do this,” he said again and she stopped, her irritation visible again. “I mean, come now Elenwen. Make her come? Women don’t come!”

She snapped the quill in two making him flinch. “What?”

He hesitated before sticking to his complaint; the only thing he could think of to get out of this mess. “Women don’t orgasm, Elenwen. How do you expect me to tease her when-”

She slammed her hands down on her desk making him become as stiff as a board; he actually had never seen her do that. It was so… uncouth. Barbaric. Angry. He felt regret wash over him. She was angry and he was stuck in the room with her.

“Bloody Obilivion above and below, must a woman do everything?!” she nearly shouted to what seemed like herself. “Ondolemar, if you will not do as you are asked then I will personally see your rank moved down and you can be Igmund’s personal slave until the Dominion takes over! Then you will be mine!” She turned on him and he found himself stepping back a little. She was really frightening. His reluctance only egged her on. “Well? Shall I go downstairs and act like a real Thalmor or will you?!”

“S-She is my prisoner,” he found himself saying and Elenwen was soon against him, bearing down on him making him extremely uncomfortable.

“Then make her your prisoner, Ondolemar! And don’t ever come up here to annoy me again if you can’t! Now go down there, rub her damned sopping cunt until she tells you exactly what I want to hear and then release her back into the wilds! Understand?!”

He was taken aback. The thought alone sent blood rushing throughout his body and he took her advice and was out the door, moving hastily back to the torture chambers. When he got down there, he stood, almost lost and he found himself standing in front of the dragonborn’s cell after some time, watching her. She was still strung up but her eyes were closed and it seemed she was sleeping, despite her position.

His eyes moved down to look at her panties and he sneered. Disgusting. The thought of touching her, even to break her was unpleasant and he went to sit on a chair, weighing his options, his mood heavy and his stomach churning.

He ended up sitting there for the duration of the day, switching between the pros of being sent back to Markarth and the cons of touching that… Nord. A few times she stirred, making feeble attempts to break loose of her chains, even once was about to shout at them but he ran in and gagged her before she could. Other than that, she was quiet, boring and still a Nord.

He ended up retiring to his room when he suspected Elenwen was no longer in the building and mulled over his choices more with a meagre meal of apples and a sweet roll that were on the desk. The sweet roll tasted old but he wasn’t in the mood to venture out of his quarters, lest she find him and take away his sleep in demand for answers.

He went to bed restless, waking up a few times before he finally decided; he would break the bitch, even if it meant touching her. It still didn’t help him sleep.

 

\--

 

He opened the cell door, stepping in and adjusting his gloves as he did. He had eaten before anyone had gotten up, stolen a pair of gloves from Rulindil so his own wouldn’t be soiled and he was staring at his quiet prisoner with an air of hatred. He ungagged her and woke her up with a slap.

“Ow,” she hissed, her weary eyes raising, that fire still within them though more muted than yesterday. “What’s the big idea, shithead? You slap like a girl!”

“Fine,” he replied and he punched her in the jaw. It was as satisfying as a glass of chilled ice water on a hot day and he was sure it would bruise making his mood brighten a little. She hadn’t made a sound, though, her teeth gritted together tight and he ignored it, moving past her to loosen the chains a bit.

When her feet touched the ground her legs gave out and she hung still, unable to properly stand. He watched her struggle to try, her feet uneven, kicking the stones but it was useless though an enjoyable show for him. He lowered the chains enough so she was on her knees, clipping the link in place so she couldn’t get out and he went to stand in front of her. She glared at him, where he hit her turning red and he merely smiled at her.

He was trying to be as distant as possible, not talk or look at her much – to make this better for him but in reality he was ten steps from throwing up his venison breakfast.

“My,” he started, using the end of his boot to force her chin up more. “Don’t you look lovely, kneeling before your superiors, the Thalmor?”

She snorted. “Yeah right. This isn’t by choice, dicknose. If I was out, I would have ripped one of your arms off by now.”

“Yes, tell me how you would kill me,” he rolled his eyes. Stupid girl. “If I recall, you can’t even escape and your little ‘shout’ in the Understone only knocked me off my feet, not hurting me in any way.” He drew back to go outside the cell, unlocking the chest in the corner to grab the ebony box with a grimace. “So, forgive me if I’m not trembling in my boots, Dovahkiin.”

“Don’t call me that,” she spat. He came back to see her sporting a wicked grin. “Wait, didn’t you have a name for me? What was it? Subject A?”

He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Oh shut up,” he kicked her in the stomach and she tried to double over, the chains catching her as she did. He took that time to pull his chair from yesterday into the cell and set it up behind her, placing the box on it to produce the false ebony dick. He shuddered as he touched it and reached into his pocket to pull out the handkerchief he had taken from one of the guards. He was sure they wouldn’t miss it – or hopefully want it back.

He frowned as he absently cleaned the thing, noticing a bottle in the box. It was small and full of liquid which he did not recognize. He checked over his shoulder at his prisoner, who was breathing a bit hard, trying to organize herself and he pulled off the cork top, sniffing the lip of the bottle. It smelled like… nothing. He frowned, looking into the box for instructions, almost contemplating tasting it when she groaned from behind him.

“Hey… Manure Elf. You fall asleep?” she huffed. “Let’s get this over with, I don’t have all day to wait for you to shock me like a weak thunderstorm.”

His cheek twitched and he shoved the cork back into the top, placing it in the box and grabbing the damned ebony dick. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important; what was at the moment was putting the little brat in her place.

He shoved his boot between her legs from behind and was rewarded with her becoming as stiff as a board, her hands shaking above her head in the chains. He began to move it, back and forth and she let out a breath. “H-Hey! Hey, what are you doing! Get your stinking foot away from me! Hey!”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking at the wall as he rubbed her, not wanting to really see what he was doing. “No backtalk? Well, if I had known you were such an easy bitch, I would have done this earlier.”

“Go die and rot! That’s not-!” he pushed up and she raised up off her knees, her breath hitching and her back arching. He looked down at her; well, that was interesting. He pulled his boot away and she immediately collapsed back own to her original position, only closing her legs tight as she did. He used the handkerchief to wipe his boot before coming around to stand before her, crossing his arms as he did, hiding the dildo.

Her cheeks were red, and not just from his punch. It would have been satisfying but somehow, in the back of his mind, Elenwen’s voice came out, telling him how to handle her. He was still bitter from it and he looked to the wall, his hands flexing against his skin. Just get it over with, he reminded himself. He dragged his eyes down and stared back at her, the tension becoming thick in the room.

“That’s all you got?” she suddenly spat out. “What, you did that for your amusement?”

“Hardly,” he muttered and he held up the ebony item of shame. The color left her cheeks and she stared at it then him then back to it. “You’re barely worth this thing.”

“Fuck you,” she finally hissed and he smiled, his previous thoughts leaving for a moment.

“No, dragonborn, fuck you,” he smirked. “Because that’s what’s going to happen. As in this-” He waved the toy at her. “-fucking you and your disgusting, whorish body until you beg me to stop and remember the Thalmor own you!”

She inhaled deep but he was ready and he cracked her across the face, the shout dying in her throat. She took instead to biting his hand and he electrocuted her for it, her screams heaven to his ears. He kicked her, the chains preventing her from falling back but her legs opened when he did and he slammed his heel between them so she couldn’t close them.

Her breathing became rapid and labored and she gave him a look of absolute malice. He gave her a smile, drinking in her hatred before he reached down and grabbed one of her nipples as he had done the first day. One hard tug made her back arch and a different scream come from her throat – one of mercy, of submission – and he savoured it, twisting until it turned into pain before he let go.

He suddenly got an idea and he put the damned ebony dick down so his hands could be free. Then he grabbed both her nipples and pulled, making her curl forwards. He chuckled as she did.

“I say, you basically have udders on you,” he commented, letting go to grab her breasts which barely fit in his hand. He took a second to mentally weigh them, still finding the stupid things on her body impressive and she hissed at him like an angry Khajiit. He ignored it. “You really are just like a fattened cow, aren’t you?”

“What does that make you?” she spat. “The shit piled up in the pen?”

He laughed; wasn’t she clever. “It makes me the farmer who is going to slaughter you and hang you from the rafters to gut,” he squeezed them roughly and her breath caught, the motion making her uncomfortable which was what he wanted. “But first… a name…”

He let go of her, red marks forming over her white skin where he had been rough and he drew his fingers up between her breasts, slowly clasping her neck. He could feel her pulse, rapid and irregular and he tightened his grip for a second, just to make her choke.

“I think I’ll call you… Bessie,” he mocked. “Bessie, the fat cow who can’t control her body.”

She sneered at him, her teeth flashing as she did and he grinned, his fingers letting go of her throat to trail down towards her stomach. He got down properly on his knees, wrenching one between her legs where his boot had been and the sneer disappeared and she began to breathe hard, her eyes becoming wild as she rattled against the chains. “Don’t!”

He backhanded her. “Don’t you instruct me, Nord!” he snapped, reminding her of who was in charge. He grabbed the edge of her panties, pulling them down so they stretched to an almost breaking point against her hips and he grabbed the stupid dildo, holding it for a second – grimacing to himself – before he placed the tip against the outside of her panties.

She went rigid. Good, he mused. The more she hates this, the better; although deep down he knew he was going to hate this more. He slowly pushed it down, between her shaking thighs until it was nestled right against where he could feel her heat radiating. He drew it up making her whimper and he did it again, listening to the fabric shift, her breath become uneven and his own hiss in irritation. This felt more degrading for him than it did for her, rubbing her body like this but he continued, using only the tip against her in spots, careful not to rub close to where he suspected her clit was. 

She began twitching under him, her chest rising and falling in a terrible way, sweat forming on her neck and forehead and he was ready to just give up and shock her to death since this was pointless when she let out a whimper. Her voice trembled, her body moved and she begged to be touched.

“Stop… Teasing…” she whispered, her eyes dark as they stared at him. He snorted. As if he was some gentle lover doing this for both their pleasure. He pulled her damned underwear down more, pushing the ebony against her directly and a shudder swam up her body, her head falling back. “S-Stop teasing me!”

“I’ve barely touched you, you whore,” he cut in, his voice annoyed and dominating to remind her he was not there for pleasure. “If you’re this out of control from a few rubs and pinches then you really are a weak cow.” He slid the dick along her folds, pushing it up against her to make her moan – shamelessly, which made him uncomfortable – before he pulled it away. “For you to be the dragonborn... Your inferior kin must be weeping.”

Her head snapped back and her body was rigid again, her teeth bared but her anger was lost as the pleasure she had briefly felt dulled it. “I don’t give a shit if I’m the dragonborn.”

He furrowed his brows at her. “And why is that?”

She opened her mouth, about to say something when she stopped and calmed herself, her eyes fluttering back into a smug look, head raising to look down at him. Oh how he wanted to beat her until she was dead with this stupid fake dick. “Why should I tell you, Thalmor piss?” she attempted to stand as she said it but he wasn’t going to let her and ice spears were suddenly in her legs making her shriek and twist, the chains preventing her from tending to herself. She began to shout, her hands desperately moving to try and touch her wounds, blood spilling out from her calves and ankles and he yawned in response. At least it was satisfying for him to see and he stood up, silently figuring which magic to use before encasing her legs, from her bent knees to her feet in ice. She paled. It wouldn’t kill her, but by the time the ice melted, her legs would be numb – possibly frostbitten. A simple healing potion could fix it but his guards were not around and he was in no mood to waste one.

He walked around her noticing her legs were spread just enough for him to continue teasing her but he was beyond that point. Instead another idea came to pass and he thanked the divines that his gloves weren’t his own and he reached down, rubbing between her folds, searching for her opening. She sobbed from her position, twisting her head to see him and he ignored her.

“If you’re not going to willingly talk – which, mind you, I don’t care if you do but my boss does so I must make you – then I’ll make you speak some other way,” he rubbed, hearing alone that she was wet and… he shuddered. There was something wrong with this girl if a few strokes got her like this. Maybe Nords were easy, though. Or maybe she was some sort of masochist. At any rate, he grabbed the dildo, pressing the tip against her and she stiffened, her entire body tensing making pushing the damned thing harder. She could probably use something to help like a type of lubricant but why bother; she deserved the pain.

The thought made him look back to the box. Wait, was that bottle...?

“No! N-No! Fine! Fine! What, you want to know why I don’t care I’m dragonborn!?” she began to babble making him frown and stare at the back of her head, his thoughts going back to what he was doing. “Why you care, I don’t know but I’ll tell you!”

He contemplated. “I don’t really care,” he decided, going back to pushing the damned thing into her but she was clenching and the resistance was tough. He was going to make her start bleeding if she didn’t stop.

Her voice seemed to raise a few octaves. “What do you want to know!? I’ll tell you! Just stop!”

He did. But only for the fact that she was making it difficult. As much as he wouldn’t care to shove that thing into her whorish body, he didn’t want to deal with any internal blood or ruptured things. Ugh, sometimes women’s bodies were gross. Some twisted dwemer cube he would never get. He took a moment to think before settling on one thing Elenwen had written in her dossier.

“Are you a Stormcloak?” he asked bluntly. There was silence before she let out a breath.

“No.”

“Do you worship your little man-god, Talos?” he loomed over her with this question, his eyes glaring at the back of her head and she let out another breath.

“No.”

He grabbed her hair, wrenching her back so he could see her eyes and they were angry, her brows fixed together furiously. He asked again. “Do you worship Talos?”

She raised the corner of her mouth, sneering. “I said no.”

He searched her eyes, seeing nothing change but it didn’t satisfy him. “I think you’re lying,” he stated, throwing her head back and he grabbed the dildo, moving it to once again push up into her but she let out a frustrated noise.

“I said I don’t! I don’t believe in Talos!”

“Why not,” he snarled.

“Because why should I?” she yelled back. “Any of those so called divines! What do I need them for? All of them are useless to me! I don’t believe in any of those stupid gods and I don’t care if I should!”

That was new. He recalled only hearing once of a rumor of a man who rejected the divines, instead calling upon the gods of old, adamant of their superiority. Mostly everyone they came across called out for their pathetic false god Talos or some feeble trick at pleading their soul to one of the actual divinities. But then again…

“You worship the daedra then?”

“No,” she growled. “Who would worship those weaklings?”

He actually scoffed, her claim incredulous. Surely… He didn’t worship them but he knew they were not weak. Namira came to mind and he shuddered. “That’s quite a bold statement, Bessie.”

He heard her growl at her nickname. So she didn’t believe in the Divines and rejected the daedra. He had to ask. “Then what do you worship?”

There was a long pause, her breathing heavy and her muscles twitching under the pain of the ice and chains.

“The only thing I worship is the only thing that matters in this world,” she hissed. “Myself!”

He tried not to laugh. What an absolutely conceited, snot-nosed… She was serious, wasn’t she? He grabbed her by the hair, forcing her head back so he could look into her eyes and her expression was of one of anger and frustration, just as before. He let go, throwing her head forward.

“You must have a small congregation then,” he muttered. “Who would ever worship you?”

“Me,” she growled. “And that’s all that matters. Is me.”

He looked to the wall, shaking his head. What a stupid, idiotic Nord! Who rejected the divinites for themselves? Especially someone like her? She was short, plump, and worse than a wild animal in heat! He found himself scoffing again. How highly did she think of herself? She was a Nord! Even an Altmer or Thalmor wouldn't think of themselves above a god!

Well… at least one question Elenwen had would be answered. That was enough for him for the day. The smell of her sex and frozen blood was now bothering him and he was about to get up and leave when he remembered his plan. The bitch still needed to be punished for… existing. She was relaxed enough that she wouldn’t be a much of a problem and he grabbed the ebony dildo, staring at it before he went to the box and fetched the bottle. He used only a little of the liquid, only enough to make sure he won't deal with internal bleeding should it arise and he went back and simply reached between her legs, spreading her.

Before she could react, he forced the entire thing inside her making her scream and her back arch. She resisted, clenched, he could feel her discomfort almost inside himself as she continued screaming and it was broken with a sob; a sob, a wail, tears.

He merely grabbed her panties, pulling them up so they were snug on her and pulled off the gloves, tossing them on the ground near the chair as they had served their purpose. Fuck Rulindil; he half-hoped the elf would come down and find them. Then he sighed in a bit of relief. It was so good to hear her screams of agony, just like he dreamed.

“You BASTARD!” she cried, twisting against her binds. “You absolute bastard! You shit! You… You bastard!” She was crying, her head hanging low as her chest heaved, choking on breaths and tears. He smiled as he walked to face her front.

“Sorry, but, I don’t play by your rules. You’re my prisoner and-”

“I was a virgin!” she screamed and he stopped, staring at her. Then he couldn’t help it and he started to laugh. She got even more upset, screaming and shouting, profanities spewing from her lips and he had to brace himself on the cell doors. At least he broke something within her. The thought made him laugh again and he opened the door to step out, seeing the guard at the top of the stairs trying hard not to look down.

He wiped away a tear, and locked the door, looking at her as she sobbed. Oh, to see her like this filled him with a strange sense of joy. It was more satisfying than if he had killed her since her misery and pain was much more fun to see. A virgin... of course. He found himself staring at her, her flushed skin, the bruise forming on her jaw, to her heaving chest down to her wide hips and trembling thighs. He took a mental photograph. Tomorrow, he would break her completely then dispose of her. That should keep her in line for the rest of her short, bothersome life.

She drew in a breath, her watery red eyes moving to meet his gaze. “Where are you going?!”

“To have a bath,” he stated simply. “I touched you and now I need to be cleaned. Your ugly bovine smell is sickening me.”

“You can’t go!” she shouted and he raised a brow. “That… thing! Your damn toy is… is in me!”

“And that’s where it is going to stay for tonight!” he smiled before heading to the stairwell. “So, have fun.”

“You can’t do this!” she screamed and he grinned as he came to the second floor, looking at the guard who was staring off into space but he could tell he heard everything. He chuckled as he moved by him, ignoring the cow’s screaming from below. “Hey! Get back here you Thalmor bastard! You can’t do this! T-Take it out!”

He shut the door behind him with a grin.

It was only later, after he had bathed and ate did something hit him. He frowned, feeling a twinge of guilt inside for doing something like taking her virginity by force but it passed when he remembered her sneer and attitude, her statements against their superior race. He probably did her a favor because no one in their right mind would ever bed such a foul mouthy thing.


	13. Raven Rocked (F!DB/Various)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: So... I have a bit of a dunmer fetish. Everytime i go to solstheim, im mentally checking off which men my db would screw the brains out of, and as it turns out its most of em.
> 
> This is Pema, my Dragonborn who is a werewolf Redguard and who sleeps with every thing. I actually loved Pema and she was adorable in my game. My plan with this (which, by the way, this fill is Unfinished and will not get finished) was to have her keep sleeping her way across Solstheim. She was going to find Njada after she had a, um, thing with Ancarion. Which Pema totally cheered her for. And she was going to go back to Raven Rock and damn well have a good time with Captain Veloth and most of the Redoran Guard. I'm so classy /sarcasm.

“Come on, Fethis!” Pema complained as she dropped another mace in front of him making him jerk his feet up so they didn’t get hit. “I just need like, a hundred septims! You can do that on this mace!”

He wrinkled his nose. “I told you, I am bleeding myself dry as it is,” he said as he slowly pushed the dwarven mace back at her with his right foot, careful not to touch it too much. “I barely have enough coin to last me the rest of the month!”

“Oh, come on,” she huffed as she leaned back and crossed her arms. “I know what you’re going to do! I’m going to leave and then you’re going to turn around, slap a price tag on this for seven hundred septims and laugh at how much you made off of me!”

“How?” he snapped back at her as he went back to folding his arms over his chest as he sat properly in his chair. “If you haven’t noticed, no one even comes here! It would be months before I even sold that! And with better weapons out there, no one wants a used dwarven mace!”

She began to narrow her eyes, irritated when her companion finally came up behind her, her boots kicking up a small amount of fresh ash as she did.

“Pema, come on,” Njada said as her eyes focused on the changing, cloudy sky. “I want to get out of here before it gets too dark. Unless we’re going to get a room in which case we should go anyways.”

She shrugged her off, still glaring at Fethis who didn’t budge. She pointed at him making him flinch at her rudeness. “I’ll be right back. And don’t look so smug about this.”

He flushed a deep pink in embarrassment at her words. “I’m not!” he spat but she ignored him as she turned back to Njada, leading her away from him a small distance to quietly chat. Though her voice was louder than it should have been.

“Njada, I need the money!”

“I told you to damn well sell off your shit in Windhelm!” she chastised and Pema sighed deeply, her eyes rolling at the lecture she was going to get. “Do you even have enough for us to spend a night here?”

“Uh,” she said, absently touching her armor to search for her coin purse and her friend slapped a hand on her face in irritation. “H-Hold on! I’ll find it!”

“If you weren’t the Harbinger I swear I would kill you,” she said and Pema frowned.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do!” she said before she crossed her arms and gave her a look which made her avoid her eyes in shame. She searched a bit more frantically before she finally found her coin purse - tucked between her breasts - and she pulled it out, pouring out a few septims to count. Njada watched her.

“I have… like, seven septims.”

She gaped at her. “What happened to the rest?”

“Uh,” she didn’t look at her again. This time it was out of pure guilt and she winced a little as she began to explain. “Remember when you went to bed in Candlehearth?”

“…Yes,” she said in a wary voice.

“Yeah, well, I may have heard about some gambling down at the dunmer cornerclub and sort of..” She trailed off as her friend gave her a look which could melt ice and she shivered. She looked to the bulwark instead. “I almost won, okay!”

“You-!” Njada paused, trying to contain her anger before she pulled out her mace and went to one of the large, twisting trauma roots that were trying to take over Raven Rock. She raised her arm and smashed it with one swing, the root exploding sending bits of it beside her and the market looked up in shock as Pema let out an awkward laugh. Njada was not pleased.

“Look, it won’t happen again!”

“Pema, I swear-!” Njada snapped, turning on her with her mace now dripping with a milky substance when she stopped. Her brows fixed and she slowly pulled back, thinking, before she went to her, pointing the end of her mace at Pema’s face causing her to back off.

“Gross! Don’t point that at me!”

“Sleep with him,” she suddenly said and Pema paused.

“What?”

“Sleep with him,” the end of her mace suddenly went to point at Fethis who was looking completely shocked as her voice wasn’t exactly low. “You’ve done it before. I bet that can at least net us fifty coins.”

She paused, staring at her before she began to realize what she meant. Yes, she wasn’t averse to rolling in the straw for money. She did it enough in Skyrim and the men seemed happy to exchange sex for money there. She turned to look at Fethis, judging him and he nearly went white.

“I-I’m not sleeping with you for money!” he spat at her and she pursed her lips before she turned back to Njada. She was looking at him as well but with a more judgmental look, her eyes going down to between his legs making him stiffen.

“What do you think?”

Njada shrugged as she put away her mace with the end pointing down. “I’d fuck him.”

“Yeah, I can work with him,” she agreed. “He’s not too bad to look at. I mean, he’s not Athis but you know, no one is like Athis.”

“True, but then again Athis was coddled a lot in Skyrim.”

“True.”

“Did you two whores hear me?” Fethis spat, his eyes moving quickly to the market where he could see his daughter staring with her mouth hanging slightly open. “I-I’ll call the guards!”

Pema ignored him as she turned and she went back to standing in front of him, picking up the mace she had dropped before she clipped it back to her side. She crossed her arms, looking him up and down making him furiously flush and she licked her lips.

“Don’t even!” he hissed and she smiled a bit.

“Look, either you buy this dwarven mace off of me for a hundred septims… or I can offer myself for fifty,” she said as she tapped the butt of the mace.

“I don’t want you!” he said in a sharp tone and she sighed before finally pulling off her helmet letting her long black hair fall down. She dramatically hooked her hand under it, making sure he could see how long it was as she tossed it back to hang better over her armor and she stuck her chest out, standing perfectly. She already could feel the eyes of the men on her from behind, Glover Mallory’s forge ceasing to be stoked.

Fethis’ eyes went over her and she grinned to herself as Njada smirked and looked back out at the market, pretending not to see.

“Buy my mace.”

“No,” he said.

“Then buy me for a night.”

He pursed his lips tight. She let out a soft sigh, making sure to extend her neck a bit, showing off more of her dark skin before she placed one hand on her hip. She could tell he was interested but she just needed to push him a little more.

“You know, Fethis,” she said in a sweet voice, playing up her charm. “I am the dragonborn.”

“So?” he said, his eyes still moving over her though he was trying not to show it and she gave him her best smile. The one that could make a Thalmor Agent sigh.

“I can’t have kids,” she said with a small wink. “You know what that means?”

“…No,” he said in a quiet voice and she nearly giggled before she leaned towards him, her voice low, hair falling down over her shoulders and she licked her lips again making him swallow.

“You can come inside me.”

He went as red as his outfit, his eyes widening a bit and she leaned back, putting her helmet firmly on before she turned to Njada who was hiding a smile then back to him.

“I’ll be available after dusk,” she said. “Near the Earth Stone. Don’t be late,” she gave him another wink before she turned, Njada following after as they went around the market and towards the docks. There were eyes on her, watching her go but she remained confident until they got far enough away that they couldn’t see her. It was then that she let out a loud sigh and pulled her helmet off to wrap her hair up, sticking her tongue out after.

“Ugh, I hate putting my hair down. It always makes my neck feel sticky,” she complained and Njada came beside her, smiling. “Do you think he’ll take the bait?”

“Probably,” she said as they continued to walk towards the twisting docks before turning to go down the black shoreline towards the Earth Stone. “Nice touch on the ‘coming inside’ line.”

“Really? Because I didn’t know if that would be cheesy or not.”

“Trust me, men jump at that,” she replied. “They always get excited with the thought on how they can blow their load without being chased down after with a child.” Pema giggled at her crassness. “Especially Dunmer men. If Athis is to be believed.”

“Yes, well, he does have a tendency to lie,” she pointed out. “Like how he lied on taking down those two bears by himself.”

Njada snorted. “He was just trying to cover up where he had gone. Honestly, we all know he sneaks off to Morthal to fuck his boyfriend,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He might as well just come out and say it.”

“He will when he’s ready,” Pema shrugged but Njada rolled her eyes.

“It would be better if he just didn’t lie. Companions don’t lie,” she said before going quiet and Pema did as well. Down the shore, she nodded towards the waves and Pema looked, her eyes squinting a bit as ash began falling. “You want to go sit down there and relax? We can at least figure out what we’re going to do after.”

“I guess,” she sighed, rolling her shoulder before she looked to her friend. “Hey, should I wear my armor or should I change?”

“Change.”

“Do you have any spare clothes?” she asked and Njada sighed before she let her knapsack slide off her shoulder and she looked inside. She dug around a bit making them stop before she pulled out a wrinkled blue dress.

“It may be a little tight,” she pointed out but Pema still took it, looking it over. “I mean, you could just go stand by the stone naked. I don’t think he would mind.”

“I might,” she said as she looked back at the liberated stone. She didn’t believe in the Skaal god but it was sacred nonetheless. Though she doubted her friend would care about her opinion, religion wasn’t something she discussed with her. She believed in a man ascending to godhood which Pema still found absolutely ridiculous which got her into hot water more than once. She decided to change the subject. “Hey, Njada?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really want to kill me for gambling in Windhelm?”

She pressed her lips thin, her fingers going to her mace before she stopped and shouldered her backpack, walking ahead making Pema catch up.

“No,” she said in an irritated tone that made her smile. “If I killed you, this bullshit with Miraak might spread to Skyrim and I will be damned if I ever let that happen. Alduin was enough.”

“You’re the best Njada,” Pema nudged her and she shoved her back with her elbow.

“Whatever. ‘Whore’,” she said and Pema laughed.

“He said both of us were whores,” she indicated. “Not just me.”

“You are a whore.”

“So are you!”

Njada pushed her again making her laugh. “Come on. Before you go bending over we really need to make out a plan of what we’re going to do after.”

“Alright, alright,” she smiled. “But Njada?”

“What?”

“If he’s really good… I might want to stay an extra night.”

That made her laugh.

 

—

 

Njada wasn’t kidding, the dress was tight. But it was easily remedied with a few slashes of a dagger, the top exposed more so she could stuff her chest in it and the slit that trailed up the leg torn until it was past her hips. Sure, her underwear band was exposed but she wasn’t worried about that. It would be dark enough that it blended somewhat to her skin and she doubted Fethis would mind.

She leaned against the Earth Stone, her fingers feeling the markings from behind when she heard footsteps on the soft ashen sand. She inhaled, psyching herself up before she turned and frowned at the man coming to her.

“Adril?” she said, her arms crossing her chest immediately to hide her rather obvious cleavage. “What are you doing out here?”

He came to stop near the edge of the earth stone water ring, crossing his arms as well as he looked at her and she flushed a bit. She could tell he wasn’t there for an evening walk. “I heard you were soliciting sex from some of the citizens in Raven Rock.”

“J-Just to Fethis!” she said defensively. “He’s a damn merchant but he won’t buy my things! I need the money!” Adril frowned deeply at her and she avoided his look. “I-I’m broke, you know!”

“Why not try your fortune in tomb plundering instead of bothering simple folk?” he asked and she gave him a look. He didn’t change his and she shivered a bit. She really wasn’t a fan of how Dunmer had that death look down perfectly.

“I would if I had any healing potions left. Hence why I needed the money. To go to Neloth and buy some and then I can go clean out some reavers and the rest of the Standing Stones,” she said, huffing a bit. She looked over her shoulder, trying to see if Njada was coming but there wasn’t any signs of movement making her flush. She rubbed her arms, embarrassed and Adril still said nothing. She finally relented after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Look, Adril, I won’t do it again,” she mumbled. He said nothing and she went to looking into the warm pool of water surrounding the earth stone when something hit the water making her jerk. The ripples spread and once the water settled she stared at what was obviously a coin bag. Her eyes shot up to Adril who was still looking at her displeased and she frowned.

She pointed at the coin bag. “…Is this-?”

“For you,” he said. “Fifty septims.”

“Why?” she said immediately and he frowned deeply at her.

“You don’t want it?” he started and she flushed.

“N-No! No I-!” she paused. She wasn’t sure of what to say but the fact he was giving it to her for free made her relax a little. She and Njada had harshly judged him when they first arrived but he didn’t seem as bad as he looked now. She bent down to take it, her dress skimming the water as she did and she tried to think of how to thank him. “Adril, I-”

“Go buy your potions from that odd wizard. Then clean out as many of those Reavers as you can,” he cut in and she picked up the heavy coin back, looking at it. She checked him again, his expression still moody and she found herself flushing before she went towards him.

“I will. I will, thank you Adril,” she breathed out. “I promise I will get rid of as many as them as I can.”

“Good,” he said and she stepped out, going to move past him when he stopped her. “Where are you going?”

She frowned and looked at him before back towards the line of faint lights that led to the center of the town. “Uh, to Raven Rock, then to Tel Mithryn.”

“We’re not done,” he said, his arms uncrossing and she stared at him as he began to reach for his belt. Her eyes flicked down and she watched him almost confused on what he was doing until he moved his robes aside and began lifting up his loincloth.

“Oh,” she said, at first unenthusiastic until he showed her his length. “Oh…” Her eyes lit up.

“Be quick,” he said and she looked at him. “I want to see just how good you are.”

Slowly she began to smile, her body straightening and despite being slightly shorter than him she craned her neck, flashing him her winning smile.

“I’m the best, Adril,” she smirked.

“We’ll see,” he said and she licked her lips before she took the wet coin bag and pushed it down into the valley of her breasts, trying not to show how awkward it was to actually do such a thing. He watched her and she stepped to the side, perfectly in line with him before she began to sink down. She touched his sides, her hands sliding down with her until she was on her knees in front of him, gently taking his cock from his hands.

He didn’t seem to look pleased or displeased and she decided to ease him into it, testing the waters.

“What kind of a man are you, Adril?” she asked almost innocently. “The type who likes young girls or the type who likes experienced ones?”

His expression didn’t change but she felt him tense slightly. 

“I like women who do as they’re told,” he said and she chuckled.

“Oooh, you like submission. I can do that,” she purred, her fingers gently running over his cock, careful not to let her nails scrape him. “Though I will warn you, a dragon does not easily submit.”

“If you want to keep those fifty septims, you will,” he said bluntly and she had to keep in her laughter. Slowly she brought his cock to her lips, letting it just barely glide across them before she spoke.

“You’re not that good at dirty talk, are you?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” she said, pausing only to lean back and pull out a small bit of rope from her pocket. She quickly pulled her hair back, tying it into a horsetail, her bangs falling down and she brushed them back slightly before she continued, taking his cock to glide against her mouth again.

He did nothing but stare at her and she looked to him, slowly bringing her tongue out to press against the underside of his cock. He tensed.

“You taste nice,” she said when her tongue withdrew, her fingers moving over his now nearly erect cock, the foreskin pulling back at last. He didn’t reply and she sighed, focusing exclusively on it now since he wasn’t willing to contribute and she wasn’t willing to have a one-sided conversation. It had a nice color, the head crowned a dark purple with a few veins and she teased his pulled back foreskin making him take in a sharp breath.

That made her look up. “Has no one ever played with you?” she asked and he glared at her. She smiled and went back to looking at his cock, silently trying to judge how big he was. Maybe he was above six inches but it was closer to six than seven she estimated. Perfect for her at any rate. “Men with foreskin are my favourite. A lot of us Redguards have it but with the Imperial dick trend, a lot are getting it taken off. I’m not a fan.”

He pursed his lips. “How many men have you been with?”

She grinned. “I don’t know, I lost count over the years,” she said before she stuck out her tongue. “Dragons are conquerors. And I am a dragon, you know.”

“Whatever,” he said in a low voice making her giggle before she went back to teasing his head. He slightly jerked, his hand almost coming to grab her hair but he placed it on his hip instead making her smile to herself. Her tongue ran over his slit, tasting him but there was no precome and she furrowed her brows, focusing exclusively on drawing some out when a rustling made her stop and him go stiff.

He grabbed her hand, ready to shove it off in case it was needed but there was no more noise after that and she relaxed, her eyes out towards the Solstheim waters before back to the dark ashen trees near the stone.

“It was probably just a bird…” she said but he wasn’t satisfied. “They usually nest around this time.”

“Pema,” he said her name and she looked to him, shocked. “Do this quick. I will not be caught with my pants down getting sucked off.”

“Why not?” she said, moving back to grab his cock. “It’s not like you’re not impressive.”

“That’s not my concern,” he said, glaring at her. “I am the second councillor of Raven Rock. And I gave you money in exchange for this. It could ruin me.”

She snorted but began pushing his cock into her mouth, tasting him as she did, her jaw widening the deeper it went until she pulled back, leaving him slick. “Just tell them I begged you. I mean, knowing what your cock is like, I might do it in the future.”

“Pema,” he warned. “This is not a joke.”

“Adril,” she said back. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll send you to the grave early.”

He looked as if he was going to respond back but she took him again in her mouth, sliding it down until she was nearly at the base. She pulled back but didn’t let it fall out and she began a slow rhythm that she quickly sped up when it was clear he needed more pressure. His hand came to grab her wrapped up hair, gripping it tight like it would make her go faster and she complied.

She brought her hand up to chase her mouth, moving quick and fast with as much saliva as she could. She flexed her throat, hummed against his cock and she was shocked when he shoved her off minutes later, his come hitting some of her chin but most fell upon the ashen sand. He was a quick shot though she noted it more or less to remind herself later rather than judge him over it.

She brought her hand up, wiping his seed off her chin and she stole a taste, the bitterness making her wrinkle her nose but he didn’t notice. His breathing was off and he took a moment before he stuffed himself away and tied his belt back, smoothing his robes after.

She looked to him, licking her lips. “Was that good?”

He let out a slow sigh. “Yes. And you are never to speak of it again.”

She had to smile at that. “Yeah. Deal.” Slowly she stood, brushing the sand and ash off her knees and she could now feel how much the quick turn had affected her. She was wet and she could feel it making her sigh and Adril studied her, his eyes sharp even in the dark. “I suppose a quick roll is out of the question.”

“It is,” he said and she sighed again. Quick and not willing to go further. Typical politician. “Go to Tel Mithryn. Get your potions. Then wipe out those reavers.”

“Will do, Councillor,” she said and he straightened, looking dignified again and she just couldn’t help herself. “But, just to put this out there, if you ever need to relieve yourself, I would be happy to be on all fours for you.”

He once again didn’t change his expression but she saw a small twitch above his eye meaning he was affected. She smiled wide.

“Goodnight, Pema,” he said and he turned.

“Goodnight, Adril,” she responded, watching him go before she began brushing herself off more until he was out of sight. Then she turned behind her, looking every which way. “You can come out now Njada! I heard you!”

There was only silence and she huffed.

“Njada!” she yelled. “I’m done!”

There was a rustling to her right making her turn and she expected to see her friend. Only when the figure came closer from the shadows did she realize it was indeed not her as Njada was bulkier than the thing figure coming towards her. She stiffened a bit until they came close enough that she could see, the pale light from the hidden moon showing their face and she felt herself turn a bit red.

“Fethis?” she said and he looked incredibly embarrassed. “Did you-?” she pointed to where she had been and he wouldn’t look at her. “…Oh, shit.”

He let out a low, annoyed sigh. “So, the second councillor seemed to have enjoyed himself.”

She wiped her mouth. “Uh, yeah.”

He came before her, still not looking at her and he crossed his arms. “I suppose you don’t need my septims, now that you’ve had your fill.”

That made her look at him. There was something in the way he said it that bothered her. Like he was implying she truly was a whore who did this for money. She did but that was beside the point and she folded her arms in equal irritation.

“If you happened to notice, all I did was suck his cock,” she said in a purposely crass tone making him turn pink. “He told me to and I did for fifty septims. But I wasn’t here to meet him, if you recall.”

She stepped towards him and he looked up just as she jabbed her finger in his chest and pushed.

“I was here for you.”

He flushed and avoided her eyes. “I must have missed that part,” he muttered darkly but she wasn’t about to let him get off the hook.

“When did you come in?” she asked and he furrowed his brows.

“When you got on your knees, I saw you two,” he admitted and she sighed.

“Well, here’s your catchup. He offered me money to go clean up the reavers and get potions. I was originally here for your money since you’re a stubborn bastard,” he jerked his head up to stare at her, his mouth opening but she covered it. “Shut up, let me finish. I was here for you. Adril came first. Literally. And before you get all pissy, I’ll offer you this. We can fuck. For free.”

He stared at her and she gave him a look, her brows raising high to make sure he understood before she pulled her hand back. He flushed. “I don’t want a secondhand roll in the straw.”

“I was here for you initially, genius,” she said. “Now instead of you giving me money, you get one for free. Mostly because I am aching and also because just judging you, you need this more than I do.”

“I do not,” he hissed and she folded her arms, leaning back a lot.

“Do you even jerk yourself?” she said and he went pink. “I’m assuming you have years of pent-up orgasms inside you ready to burst.”

“You’re wrong,” he snapped and she shrugged.

“You seem pretty mad I sucked off someone else before you. You, Fethis, have some anger issues and you need to relax,” she pointed and he slapped her hand making her stare at him in shock. “Hey!”

“You practically announced to the entire marketplace you wanted to have sex with me, then I come which by the by is incredibly humiliating for me, and then I find you on your knees gobbling the second councillor’s cock up!” he said and she turned a bit red. 

“I didn’t gobble it.”

“You practically did,” he accused.

“Oh, whatever,” she waved him off. “Do you want to fuck or what?”

He paused, his entire body tense, his cheeks turning a hot red and she raised a brow, her own starting to turn red as well. As much as she was sort of angry, she was feeling how desperate she was and how he was standing in front of her wasn’t helping. She could see something, a slight bulge that could be a crease in his pants or not but something was there and she was getting hot.

“Fethis?” she said and he didn’t respond making her flush, her fingers tapping on her arm. “Fethis!”

He let out a slow breath from his clenched teeth, his eyes meeting hers and she pressed her dry lips together, licking them immediately at his gaze. “You are one of the silliest women I have ever met.”

She raised her brows, ignoring that. “So? Do you want to blow your load or what?”

He hissed, embarrassed but he didn’t deny her.

“Fine.”

“Great,” she said, her eyes moving down making him shift. “Then get your cock out. Before my friend comes back because then it will get awkward and trust me, you don’t want that.”

“Oh, Azura forbid,” he said sarcastically and she paused.

“Fethis?”

“What?!”

“None of that,” she pointed and he went red.

 

\-------

 

She wasn’t exactly gentle but then again he wasn’t exactly eager. She had to fight with him just to get his dick out and even then he wasn’t into letting her please him.

“I don’t want your mouth on me!” he said and she huffed. “You were on the second councillor!” 

“And you’re about to be jerking yourself off alone out here if you don’t grow up!” she spat, slapping his hands hard making him finally withdraw. “Honestly, Fethis, just let me have your dick!”

He turned a bright pink. “Y-You rude whore!” He moved to push her off again but this time she swallowed up every inch his cock making him stiffen. She held herself at his base, feeling him starting to get hard and she had to pull back a bit, his length slightly too much for her when it was erect. He breathed out hard, his hand grabbing her hair and she gently pressed her teeth against him.

“Don’t you dare!” he said in a terrified tone and she narrowed her eyes.

“Shame tho yhou!” she said with her mouth full and they remained still for a moment until she couldn’t take it. She pulled off, making sure it made a loud popping noise when she did and she gasped. “By Tava, you’re big!”

He pressed his lips thin but his cheeks began to turn a deeper red at her words and he looked away making her smile a bit at his embarrassment. She decided to play it up.

“Really, Fethis, you are!” she said, putting his cock against her arm to compare. “See? You’re one hefty boy.”

“T-Thanks, I suppose,” he muttered and she grabbed his cock again, holding it properly making him jerk back to glaring at her as she slowly swallowed him again, going as far as she could. What she couldn’t fit she made a fist around and she moved in tune with her mouth, saliva beginning to coat him. He watched her, nearly mesmerized until she stopped to suck greedily at the head of his cock.

He grabbed her hair making her wince a little. “Pema!” he said in a stressed voice and she pulled off, slapping his hand off her head before she laid her tongue flat against him to give him a sloppy lick. His breathing came out uneven.

“Don’t grab my hair to yank me off,” she warned as she massaged his crown, her fingers lightly rubbing at his slit making him groan.

“D-Don’t act like a bloody brothel whore!” he said and she narrowed her eyes.

“If I was to do that, I’d be fingering your ass right now,” she said and he stiffened, subconsciously flexing at her words, his balls tight. “Fethis, will you relax? This is supposed to be enjoyable!”

“I haven’t had sex since my wife died!” he snapped. “And she was never this abrupt! So, excuse me for being on edge!”

She frowned at his statement and slowly she stopped teasing him, moving to grab his cock in a semi-hard grip and he inhaled sharply.

“Sorry,” she said, her hand beginning to move and he let out a long breath. 

“…You didn’t know,” he muttered. “Forget it.”

She frowned but in their current awkward situation, she decided to drop it and stroke him gently instead, moving into a rhythm he seemed to respond to and he began to almost pant as she jerked him off. She moved between watching him and his cock as she did, his tip beginning to leak and she raised a brow as his eyes shut.

“You Dunmers are really sensitive, aren’t you?” she asked and he flushed. “Jeez, it takes me thirty minutes to make a Redguard come sometimes.”

“I haven’t had a woman touch me in a long time,” he stressed, his hands balling into fists and she sighed. Then a thought entered her head on how the second councillor probably didn’t either which would explain his abruptness. Raven Rock was becoming a little depressing. She put the thoughts out of her mind and gently took him back into her mouth, sucking the head as her hand moved and she brought the other up to nudge his balls.

He began to shake, her movements overwhelming him and she decided to finish with a tight corkscrew motion, sending him over the edge with a shout and she let his come hit her chest, licking her lips as she did.

He looked down and grew hot with embarrassment. “I-I-”

She giggled. “Oh, Fethis, now look at what you’ve done!” she said in a fake, pouting tone. “Now my tits are covered! They’re going to be all sticky!”

“H-Here,” he fumbled for his scarf. “I’ll wipe it off.”

She stared at him, her face falling. “Are you serious?” she said in her regular voice. “Do all you Dunmer not understand dirty talk or am I just off today?”

His brows fixed. “Dirty talk?”

“Never mind, it must be all of you,” she said, rolling her eyes before she moved back, laying down in the sand. “Now, do you want this fast or do you want this drawn out more? Because honestly, I’m wet enough already.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded and she gave him a look. “Well?”

“…Aren’t you going a little fast?” he asked and she frowned at him. “You just were on my genitals-”

“Oh, gods, don’t use that word,” she cut in but he ignored her.

“-And now you want to have sex already?”

She watched him, her cheeks starting to burn. “Well, yeah. I mean.. Yeah, Fethis. I don’t have all night. And honestly, I’m not the type of girl who goes for long and passionate rolls. I like it quick and hot. It’s more impersonal but better in the long run.”

He didn’t seem comfortable and she leaned up a bit, sighing.

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” she found herself saying. “This is supposed to be about raw sex, nothing more. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re handsome. But this was initially about money. A wham, bam, thank you ma’am, I get money and we both go our separate ways. That was what I was expecting.”

“…Right,” he muttered.

“If you want it more drawn out, we can do that I guess,” she offered. “I mean, I’m not entirely opposed but you know.” She shifted, awkward when he didn’t immediately reply. “Y-You know.”

“No,” he finally said. “No, no, keeping this impersonal seems more of the best way to do this.” He sighed. “You’re not my wife and it has been years since I have been pleasured. This is an exchange. That’s.. What I was initially expecting.”

She flushed a bit at his words. “Yeah. An exchange. That makes this seem a lot more financial than a toss in the straw between two attractive acquaintances but whatever gets you along.” He glared at her. “What?”

“Oh, never mind,” he finally said. “Forget it. Let’s just do this.”

“Sure,” she said. “Damn, this night is turning out awkward though.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he muttered and he began to strip a bit more, pushing his trousers down to mid-thigh. She hiked up her dress, exposing herself making him flush and she beckoned him to come closer, trying not to giggle at how he had to shuffle to her.

“You should have pulled your damn pants down after you got on top of me,” she said and he gave her an angry look.

“You know, I’m really contemplating asking for a muzzle from the East Empire Company to put on you. I wouldn’t charge you for it either.”

She raised a brow at him. “Why? Do you want me to start acting like a dog?”

“To make you shut up!” he snapped and she struggled to hold in her laughter.

“Muzzles are for dogs.”

“What do you think you are?” he spat and she slapped his side making him jerk. “Hey!”

“Fethis, what did I tell you before?” she said in a stern tone. “None of that. I can easily close my legs right now, you know.” He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, both quietly judging the other before she finally exhaled and looked between them. Her eyes flicked back up to him. “How do you want to do this?”

He hesitated and she leaned back slightly, grabbing her dress to hike up more.

“Do you want to do it like this where we face each other? Or do you want me on all fours?”

“…What do you want?” he asked and she shrugged.

“It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Same.”

She sighed. “Well, fine. How about we try something then?” She moved to laying on her side and he watched her, confused. She picked up her leg, raising it a bit and she nodded behind her. “Get behind me.”

He did as she asked and she let go of her leg to grab his left hand, placing it where hers had been. “Hold me up.”

He got the idea and he had to wriggle his right hand against the sand, bringing it under her to grab her waist as he positioned. She smiled to herself. “I haven’t done this in a while. Almost forgot about it, which would be a shame.”

He ignored her comment, focusing more on angling himself and when the head of his cock touched her she let out a soft moan but he didn’t enter. She waited and he still didn’t but his hand moved up her thigh making her frown. He lifted her leg a little higher making her wince as it wasn’t like she was that flexible but he let her relax after a moment of feeling her muscles.

“How in the fifteen daedric circles are your legs so muscular?” he asked, almost entranced and she turned a bright red. The back of her neck prickled at his question and she looked to the sky for a second while he was preoccupied. The moon was hidden which was a blessing and she began to lie. 

After all, telling someone you also double as a werewolf when the moons were out was probably unwise.

“I run. A lot,” she said. “W-Why?” He kept touching her thigh, his hand moving up and down it and she tried to look back at him, catching only a glimpse over her shoulder. “Are we going to start?”

He stopped and she could see his mood change back to the typical dunmer expression of displeasure. “Yes,” he muttered, adjusting before he slowly began to push himself in. She tensed at the feeling. He was too big for her mouth but below, he was actually perfect and she purred as he slid in further.

He began muttering to himself from behind her. “By Azura, you weren’t lying about being wet enough.”

She giggled. “Cocks tend to do that to me,” she said and he didn’t respond. “H-Hey, Fethis?”

“Hm,” he said, still concentrating as he tried to push in to the base but their position didn’t allow it so easily.

“You feel really damn good.”

He paused and she knew he was probably flushing again making her giggle.

“Whatever.”

She giggled more at his statement. He pulled out, roughly halfway before he began pushing in, his hand shaking against her thigh and she sighed, looking to the ashen trees as he tried to figure out the rhythm he wanted.

“You can go faster,” she said. “I can take it.”

He let out an annoyed grumble at her instruction but followed suit, adjusting again, her thigh being lifted more making her whimper. He slowly began to increase his pace but it wasn’t enough for her and she thrust back making him stiffen completely.

“Azura,” he groaned, the hand that was on her waist moving up to grab one of her breasts making her arch. “D-Do that again.”

“What, this?” She pulled herself away from him before she thrust back making him hiss and he let out a strangled groan again.

“Yes, that.”

She smiled. “Ask and you shall receive.” She happily began thrusting against him, though her pace was much faster and he stopped trying to take over their rhythm, letting her control their movements which was fine in her eyes. She rested her forearms on the sand, panting a bit as she began bucking against him and he turned, mounting her like a dog for better access making her toes curl. He went deeper and she moaned in appreciation.

“Tava, I missed this,” she said mostly to herself though it was loud enough for him to hear. “Two weeks without a pounding is just torture.”

He grit his teeth. “T-Two weeks… is not long.”

She looked at him from over her shoulder, her long black hair falling to the side and she let out a laugh. “It is for me.”

He shook his head but he began thrusting back, his hand coming up to grab her pony tail but she hissed at him.

“Fethis…” she warned.

“Take it out.”

“What?” she slowed her pace, confused. “You want to stop?”

“No,” he panted. “Take down your hair. Take out that piece of rope.”

“Oh,” she blinked, stopping so she could do so and it was awkward for her to pull it out, some of the strands catching and when her hair became free it burst around her shoulders making her upper body feel hot. He reached, pulling some it back, his lips against the strands and she sighed.

“This what you wanted?” she asked and he didn’t reply, but he urged her hips to move. She had to smile. “My thighs and my hair. You are a strange one, aren’t you Fethis?”

“What?” he said, not paying attention until his name was spoken and she snickered.

“Nothing. Keep going,” she said, moving her hips again and they settled into a rhythm that soon bored her. He liked it, his excitement evident by his panting but she soon found herself spreading her legs, trying to draw him in more. He increased his speed slightly at her movements, gripping her tight making her moan and he panted from behind.

It didn’t last long as he soon began bucking erratically, indicating he was coming to a close and she flushed, moving her hand between her legs to catch up. She was too used to Nords and the way they drew the damn act out so long and her fingers roughly stroked her clit to get herself just as excited as he was.

She was pushed more into the sand, the loose ash making her sink and she rubbed herself faster as he began to lose control. He was quick, his cock pleasant against her but despite it he had no technique and she ended up coming due to herself while he held her tight, choking on a groan. He grabbed her chest making her let out a surprised yelp at the force, his forehead pressing hard against her shoulder in return and she felt him come inside her, the rush making her shake.

He pulled out immediately, a huffed ‘sorry’ escaping his breath and she remained in place before slowly her legs closed as he fell back, moving away from her. She sat up, her cheeks flushed and her body hot but she wasn’t completely mindless from it making her quietly sigh. She turned to look at him and he was rubbing his face, trying to recover.

It wasn’t the best but it wasn’t the worst and she honestly couldn’t complain. She was hoping she would have seen stars but considering his experience, she deemed him good. After all, she had spry young men who routinely rolled in the hay who were much worse than that. She went and patted his shoulder making him flinch.

“You did good,” she said and he stared at her before he began to flush.

“I did? Because you didn’t seem…” he started and she had to smile. “I mean, weren’t you-?”

“Weren’t I what?”

He frowned. “…Never mind.”

“No, spill it,” she said jabbing his side making him flinch.

“Ow, don’t!”

She continued. “Come on, talk Fethis!”

He pushed her away from him, curling a bit. “You didn’t seem that enthusiastic.”

She snorted. “What did you expect? For me to start moaning like a Bull Netch?” He went red. “You listen to too many stories at the tavern, Fethis. I had fun. It felt good.”

“I do not,” he defended and she raised her brows.

“You do so.”

“I do not!” he spat, becoming annoyed and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, whatever, I had fun!” she slapped her hand on his shoulder making him nearly fall over from the force. “I might just want to do this again!”

He pressed his lips together, looking embarrassed but he didn’t tell her off making her smirk.

“Do you want to?”

“What?”

“Do you want to have sex again?” she asked and he avoided her eyes. He shrugged and she grinned. “Next time, we should do it in your bed.”

“No,” he said automatically. “No. Never.”

She was a bit taken aback by his tone but she brushed it off. “Okay, fine. We’ll fuck in the Retching Netch. Doesn’t bother me.”

He flushed and slowly he got up, tugging his clothes on properly before he awkwardly stood by her as if he was about to say something. She merely watched him, her fingers rubbing her thighs subconsciously and he sighed, opening his mouth. “Pema,” he began and she waited, tilting her head. “…You’re… welcome any time at my stand.”

She raised a brow. “Wow. Slow down Fethis. That’s almost a marriage proposal.”

“Shut up!” he snapped and she couldn’t help but laugh, getting up on her own and her feet, legs, side, and hair were covered in ash making her fuss to get it off.

“I’ll see you around, big boy,” she winked at him as she grabbed her boots. “Now go. Go home and get some rest.”

He huffed but he took her advice and adjusted himself before he took off, going back towards the dimly lit town. She sighed to herself, hitting her boots to knock out the ash and she slid her underwear back on, wiping the come off her chest with her arm and she tied herself back up.

By the time she was ready, the moon was becoming revealed as the ash clouds moved away and more of the dark beach was illuminated around her showing where her footprints had gone. She kicked them away, moving to find Njada and she was shocked that her friend didn’t come out at any point. Usually she would have after the first man. She finally found her by the beach near the docks, her helmet off and her hair freshly braided making her give her a look before she fell down beside her. Njada barely moved.

“So, how’d it go?” she finally asked and Pema sighed.

“He liked my thighs.”

Njada’s eyes went down to look at them before she looked back to the bay. “Huh. Never suspected a Dunmer to have a thing for werewolf thighs.”

She shoved her making her grin. “Shut up, Njada.”

“No,” she replied back and Pema shook her head. “But really, how did it go? I saw that politician or whatever come up to you first. That was weird.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” she complained as she began rummaging around the bag beside her friend, pulling out her helmet and gauntlets. “I mean, his dick was nice but I really didn’t expect that. Or having to fight with Fethis about it after.”

“Mmhmm, I heard.”

“Did you?” she said and Njada nodded making her groan. “I’ll admit… they both weren’t bad. I mean, it definitely wasn’t the best I’ve ever had but, you know.” The thought made her pause and she turned to look at her friend who was still looking out at the bay. “Hey, do you think if the two of them and I had a threesome, it would be better?”

Njada’s eyes rolled up, her expression changing to one of exasperated annoyance and Pema puffed out her cheeks in defense. “What?!”

“Pema, remember the last time you wanted a threesome?” she asked in an irritated tone making her pause.

“No?”

“Really?” she turned on her. “You were thrown in jail! I had to wait three days for you to get out! Ring any bells?”

Sweat formed on her neck and she looked away. “N-No.”

Njada’s hand came up to rub at her temples. “Alright, let me refresh your memory more. You went strutting up to the Jarl of Falkreath-”

“Njada-”

“And, surprise! He sure as fuck was horrified at your suggestion, you idiot!”

She turned on her. “Oh, come on! How was I to know that was going to happen? I didn’t think he was serious when he said he’d throw me in jail! I damn well cleared out that cave for him!”

She gave her a hard look that made her sweat even more. “Haven’t you ever listened to anything Vilkas or Vignar bitch about at Jorrvaskr?”

She blew a raspberry. “No. And don’t tell me you have either because I know you haven’t!”

That made her twitch but she pushed it aside. “My point is, if you listened you would know that Whiterun and Falkreath aren’t exactly on best terms.”

“So what?!”

“You wanted the two Jarls of those Holds at the same time!” Njada blew up and Pema flushed deeply at her words but she wasn’t deterred.

“Y-Yeah, but come on. I mean, Balgruuf is really hot, even for a father and a middle-aged Nord. And I wasn’t going to ask him for a threesome with his brother. That’s creepy. And Avenicci’s sort of…” she drew up her hand, rocking it back and forth. “Ehhh. That asshole in Falkreath was the next best thing. Plus, I mean, he probably has some stamina being young while Balgruuf seems like he might be eager on the foreplay, not in the-”

“By Talos, Pema!” Njada yelled, her hands being thrown in the air. “You are such an idiot!”

She puffed up her cheeks at the insult. “What does this have to do with Fethis!?” she finally snapped.

“You just said you wanted a threesome between him and the politician! And I am reminding you that the last time you pulled that, you were jailed!” she spat making her pause and both stared at each other, Njada with a hard expression and Pema with a pout. She scrunched up her nose.

“I can still ask.”

“Stop being an idiot!” Njada snapped. “Oh, by the gods, how are you our Harbinger? How!”

“Hey, back it up. None of that talk,” she cut in. “This is about guys and threesomes. Not my position.”

“GODS!”

She shoved her. “Njada, you’re such a dramatic whore sometimes!”

“And you’re an unbelievably idiotic slut!” she replied and she shoved her back. “Now I’m tired of sitting in the sand and ash! Can we go bloody well rent a room?”

She huffed. “I guess. But you owe me for this!”

“For what?” her companion cried in irritation as she began to get up. Slowly Pema followed, wincing a bit as her legs still hurt and she straightened herself.

“For this!” she swept her hands over herself, at the wrinkled dress and her sore legs. “Also for being rude over my threesome dreams.”

She looked like she was going to explode before she swallowed it down, ran a hand over her face, and then turned to her. “Pema?”

“What?”

“I really, really hate you sometimes.”

She stared at her.

“Maybe you need to get laid, Njada.”

Her remark got her a sharp punch in the arm which she promptly returned, both scuffling for a moment until Njada raised her mace when she was about to get pushed into the ocean.

“Alright, truce!”

“F-Fine!” Pema said, lowering her hands. “But again, you owe me!”

“Fine,” she agreed. “When we get back to Skyrim, I’ll damn well buy you the biggest hunk of venison I can find.”

“Oh no,” she said as she grabbed her knapsack, slinging it pathetically over her arm. “I don’t want a steak! I want an apology song!”

“What?!”

“You heard me! An apology song! Sung in front of Jorrvaskr, with Farkas on the lute.”

She stared at her before she made a motion with her hands to wring her neck, almost doing it before she backed off. “You’re so dead, Pema. I am going to kill you in your sleep.”

She had to smile at her as her response wasn’t a refusal back and she went to her side, slapping an arm on her shoulder which got her another punch in the ribs making her jerk. “Ow! Watch it, I’m tender!”

“I’ll tenderize you,” Njada muttered as she started to walk back towards town, Pema in tow behind her. She had to let out a small laugh, catching up at the edge and she gave her a look.

“Njada?”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend,” she said in a sing-song tone and she was shoved.

“Idiot.”

She shoved her back. “Whore.”

Finally, she cracked a smile and elbowed her hard making her yelp “Slut.”

She shoved her arm at her, knocking her shoulder. “Bitch.”

“Excuse me?” a voice came from behind them making them both jump and Pema nearly dropped her bag, her hair falling into her face. “Is that any type of language to use in town?”

Njada elbowed her hard to get her alert and she struggled pulling her hair back so she could see while her friend replied. “No, Captain Veleth.”

Pema stiffened at the name. The Captain of the Redoran Guard. She threw her messy hair back, staring at him in embarrassment and the Dunmer stood before them, giving them both a disappointed look. She nearly melted in her spot.

“C-Captain Veleth,” she said. “H-How are you?”

“Not very pleased with the way you two are coming into town,” he said and he pointed at her. “Pema, you are dressed very inappropriately.”

She looked down at herself, suddenly aware of how much skin she was showing and she found herself trying to cover her body. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “This dress is too small for me.”

The Captain sighed at her. “Then, my dear, you shouldn’t wear it. Besides, a tight dress worn past the outskirts of town is asking for trouble. Where is your armor?”

“In my bag…”

Njada stepped in finally, her sharp eyes on the Captain. “We wanted to go for a swim, Captain. Our Harbinger frequently bathes in Skyrim and wanted to do the same here so she changed her armor. Only the waters here are colder than we realized and she borrowed my dress to wear back.”

His eyes turned to her and Pema looked to Njada, shocked for a second before she nodded to go along with the lie. “R-Right. Sorry, Captain. I swear I’m going to go change now.”

“That would be wise,” he said, looking at Njada for a long moment before he went back to her. “I’ll accompany you back to your room. I assume you’re staying at the Netch?”

She flushed. “Y-Yes,” she lied again.

“Then let’s go,” he said, indicating they should start walking and both fell in step behind him, tracing his footprints. “While you may be able to do such things in Skyrim, Raven Rock is nothing like that. And I advise you to remember. There are men here who would act very inappropriate if they saw you dressed like that.”

Pema looked up, her interest suddenly piqued. “Would they…?”

“Oh yes,” he sighed. “I’ll escort you but you must promise not to wear such things again. I would loathe to hear of you two girls being hurt because someone thought they could take advantage of you.”

Njada snorted. “I’d beat the shit out of them before they even got to lay a hand on me.”

He looked back at her, disappointed with her word use but Pema was thinking of other things. Unholy things.

“Captain Veleth?” she asked and he turned back to her. “Are there any particular men I should be wary of?”

He sighed, looking around before he paused and turned to her. She bit her lip innocently, trying to hide her evil thoughts rotating in her head.

“I will not condemn anyone, Pema.” He started before he paused for a while, his eyes moving to look around the empty town. She waited until he finally spoke again, his voice low. 

“The miners,” he said. “And I do not trust Mogrul or his companion. They have always skirted around the law.” She flushed at his words, remembering the miners she had met. Not all of them had been half bad looking. “I am not condemning them but I am warning you, Pema. Be safe.”

“I will,” she replied and when he turned around she looked to Njada who raised a brow. She wiggled hers. Njada sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to end up in jail,” she whispered.

“We’ll see,” Pema smirked.

 

 

\-------

 

If there was one thing Pema could be thankful for, it was the gods giving her favor that night so when Veleth reached the Retching Netch, he did not escort her right to her ‘room’. He bid her off downstairs before leaving allowing her and Njada time wake up Geldis to rent one, the weary dunmer shaking his head at them when he rose.

“You girls really should have rented it earlier,” he said and Pema rolled her eyes, leaning over the counter as he grabbed a quill to mark off they had paid. She cleared her throat and he looked to her quickly before she leaned over more to flash her cleavage. His eyes moved down to exactly where she wanted him to see and he said nothing though his quill stilled on the paper.

“We were delayed until now,” she said in a sultry voice and Geldis stared at her. He slowly pocketed her coin, his eyes sweeping over her and she bit her lip, smiling, trying to be as enticing as possible. “Please, forgive us, Geldis.”

“Women,” he eventually muttered, moving to show them their room and Njada fell onto the bed before he even left. She groaned and Geldis pressed his lips thin. “Look, don’t make a racket while you’re here like last time.”

“We won’t,” Pema promised and he sighed before he went back to his own room, the sound of his door shutting echoing off the carved walls. Pema smiled and turned back to Njada who was still in her place, her eyes closed and she frowned.

“Njada?” she shook her and her friend groaned. “Come on, move over. We have to share this bed you know.”

She groaned again but leaned up, tugging off her armor and Pema followed in pulling off the tight dress, dropping it beside the bed in a wrinkled heap. She fetched her smalls, tugging on a loose tunic over top that fell just past her hips and she smoothed it down, turning to ask her friend something but she was already sleeping, her body turned on her side and her boots and gauntlets still on. She smiled a bit. When Njada went down, she went down.

“Well, I guess there’s no point in asking if you wanted a drink before bed,” she said quietly. Her eyes felt just as weary but somehow she wasn’t satisfied to just fall asleep that moment. There was something missing. She looked around the room, the items on the shelves different from the first time she rented it months ago and she went to check some of them. 

Among the trinkets were a few new books, some potions, and of course some strong Dunmer alcohol that she contemplated. She decided it against it but still, she felt herself get restless. She still wanted something. And she knew what it was.

Just a quick roll to get the edge off. Fethis had been pleasing but again, she needed more. Just that small itch scratched. She sighed, looking to Njada. There was no point in her finding someone outside the inn as their bed was occupied but she did wonder if the other beds had patrons. The thought made her flush and she looked one more time to her friend before she crept to the door, opening it to look out. The seats were barren. Perfect. It meant she didn’t need to throw on any more clothes and she quietly left her room.

Geldis’ door was locked making her huff. She turned to the rest of the Inn, skirting the sides, her bare feet padding across the stone floor almost silently and as she rounded the corner to check one of the other rooms she heard a noise. She stopped, her breath catching and she waited as if whatever made the sound would reveal itself when the scraping of boots against the stone made her stop. It was coming from the last door and she inched to look down the corridor, her heart beginning to pound when a hand touched her shoulder.

She would have fully screamed if the same hand didn’t slap over her mouth. 

“Mephala, don’t shout!” 

Her head snapped back and she froze. Slowly the hand drew away and she let out a shaky breath. “Slitter.”

He glowered at her before he moved. “What are you doing? And in such a state?” he flicked his finger at the edge of her tunic and she flinched, covering herself for a second before she steeled her nerves. She was the dragonborn. And despite how tough he liked to act, she knew she could send Slitter to Oblivion faster than he could reach for his sword.

She turned to cross her arms, giving him a look of defiance before her eyes ran over his body. “I was just looking around,” she said, watching as he went to sit on the bench. “What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be glued to Mogrul’s side?”

He sneered at her. “I am,” he looked to the closed door and she found her eyes moving to it as well. “Though when he sleeps, I stay outside to make sure nosy little rats don’t try and worm their way into his room.”

She tapped her arm and looked back at him. Really, he wasn’t bad looking. He wasn’t exactly drop dead gorgeous but his armor did do something to his body she couldn’t quite describe. She found herself staring at him, drinking in his form and he noticed, giving her an irritated look which she chose to ignore.

Sure, she may have already had sex once that night but again, she just needed to get that little bit of edge off her system. She licked her lips, slowly bringing her hands down and she put one on her hip, posing for him. He took notice though he tried not to show it.

“Slitter,” she said, smiling at him and he narrowed his eyes. “How does Mogrul usually sleep?”

He frowned. “That’s none of your business,” he started. “And may I also add, if you wish to speak to him you can wait until morning.”

“Oh, I don’t,” she smirked, stepped towards him, making sure to extend her neck and push her chest out. “I was just curious on if he was a light sleeper or a heavy one.”

“Why?”

She grinned and her hand slid off her hip to grab the end of her tunic, slowly lifting it up. Slitter stared at her but he didn’t move and she flashed him her smalls and breasts, winking after she did. He finally leaned back.

“You want a fuck?” he asked in a bored tone and she shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Don’t play coy,” he said making her puff her cheeks out a bit. “I heard you in the market. We all did.” His eyes went down her body and she let go of her tunic, the fabric falling back down. “I guess that means Fethis didn’t show up to your little meeting point. Typical. Old man doesn’t have it in him.”

Her cheek twitched but she didn’t tell him off. It wasn’t his business on what Fethis did or did not do but his statement did give her an opening. She walked towards him, making sure her hips swayed as she did.

“Do you have it?” she asked as she came before him, folding her arms under her breasts to slightly push them up and lift up her tunic again to expose herself. “Can you please me then?”

He did nothing a first but slowly a cocky smile came on his lips and he leaned back on the bench, his shoulders touching the wall behind him.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded and she raised her brows, smiling. “And I’ll show you.”

“Yes sir,” she purred, grinning as she did. She dropped her hands, running them over her sides and hips before she placed them on her thighs and slowly she sunk down in front of him. He spread his legs, letting her fit between them and she touched his armored knee, biting her lip as he reached down to pull himself out. He lifted up the red fabric that covered his stomach, adjusting until he pulled out his cock and she let out a small gasp at the sight to entice him.

He smirked at her sound and she knew she had him hooked. “Oh, by Tava, you’re enormous,” she said, pretending to be shocked. “I don’t think I could fit such a cock in my mouth.”

“You better learn how to,” he said and she smirked. Well, at least he got the gist of dirty talk. She took his cock from him, holding it steady as her fingers gently moved up and down and he leaned back again, crossing his arms smugly as he watched. She licked her lips and slowly took him into her mouth, her tongue pushing his foreskin back and he grunted.

She circled the tip of her tongue around him, tracing the head of his cock before she pulled back and sucked the side, letting him grow hard in her hands. He kept his arms crossed, his eyes sharp as he watched at her and his breathing even. Until she tugged more of his trousers down to lick his balls. Then he stiffened and took in a sharp breath.

She pretended not to notice, licking around the base of his shaft before she went up and took him into her mouth, moving with a steady rhythm. She hummed, the vibrations going straight up his back and he grabbed her hair, holding her head for a moment making her pause before he slowly withdrew. She only continued once she was satisfied he wouldn’t do it again though he seemed displeased by it.

“Suck harder, girl,” he growled and she flushed, ready to pull off when he grabbed her and shoved her head down making her choke. She suppressed her gag reflex, inhaling through her nose and she tried to resist but his grip was hard. He forced her down, his cock sliding down her throat and she dug her nails into his knees before he let her go. She pulled off immediately, coughing.

“W-What the fuck?” she spat and he grabbed her again, his cock hitting her lips.

“Suck it right,” he hissed and her ears burned at his tone. She slapped his hand off her head, grabbing his cock again and she gave him an irritated look.

“You just had to say ‘swallow me up’, you prick,” she said. That made him lean over but she didn’t back down as his face neared hers.

“Swallow me up,” he growled and she let out a shaky breath. Again, Fethis had been good. But when male dominance and primal urges came into play, it just made her hotter than a slow, passionate roll between the pelts. She swallowed Slitter up immediately, moving fast on his cock and he leaned back, his body tensing a few times but he didn’t let her know.

She gripped his thighs, moving fast to the base and she made sure he was slick with her saliva until he began to shift. He grabbed her hair, pushing her more and she grabbed the base of his cock, holding him steady until he finally had to come.

She let him do it in her mouth, catching as much as she could before she pulled off with a sloppy, wet motion, pretending to swallow for him. He leaned back, his shoulder hitting the back wall and she carefully cupped her mouth, spitting his seed back into it. He didn’t seem to notice and she flushed, wiping the back of her mouth before she took his cock again. What she had collected, she wiped on him, small bubbles forming at the base.

He finally looked down, his expression tense and she got up, her knees hurting a bit from the stone. 

“Slitter,” she said, pulling at her smalls and she let them fall to pool on the floor. He didn’t move but she grabbed his hand, pushing it between her legs so he could feel her. His dark red eyes moved up to meet hers and she panted. “I’m really wet for you.”

He once again showed no signs of being affected but he curled the tips of his fingers up making her whimper.

“Whore,” he said and she grinned at him.

“Like you didn’t enjoy that.”

A small smile played on his lips making her smirk but it didn’t last long. His usual expression soon came back and he motioned at her to turn around. She did, waiting and his hand slapped her backside hard making her yelp.

“If you want a fuck, give me a moment,” he said, his hand moving down to go between her legs. He spread her, his hands not very warm making her shiver before he pushed two fingers into her and she arched her back, grabbing her tunic to twist in her hand.

“Oh, yes,” she whimpered to herself and he began sliding in and out of her, his pace increasing when she started thrusting down. Her hips moved on her own and she ended up bringing the collar of her tunic up to bite it to keep from making noise when he grabbed her wrists, pulling her back to him. 

She was about to protest when the feeling of his once again hard cock hitting her backside making her argument die in her throat. He rubbed, letting go of one of her hands so he could line himself up and she spread herself more.

“Come on, Slitter,” she moaned. “Hurry up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, the head of his cock pushing against her and she half expected him to take it slow like Fethis but he proved her wrong and thrust into her at once to the hilt making her tense and rock forward on the balls of her feet at the force. A loud moan escaped her lips, more threatening to tumble out but he forced her back so he could cover her mouth.

“Be quiet!” he hissed and she arched, licking his palm until he pulled back in disgust. “Ugh! You stupid outlander!”

She leaned into him, moaning again to tease him, his cock pulsing inside her making her nearly lose her thoughts and she clenched around him in response. He growled at her but she ignored it.

“Oh, Tava, this is what I wanted!” she panted. Again, Fethis had been good but raw, impersonal sex was what got her off the most and Slitter grabbed her breasts roughly, squeezing them to make her clench in desire again.

“Who the fuck is Tava?” he muttered against her ear and she giggled a bit.

“A goddess.”

“Hn.”

“Don’t you thank the gods when you get what you want?” she said and he rolled his eyes, his hand coming once against to slap her backside making her jerk.

“No.”

“Pity,” she said. “Because I-”

He slapped a hand over her mouth again. “Stop talking,” he growled against her ear making her pause before he pulled her back with him, his rear hitting the bench and he thrust up making her arch hard again. She clenched around him, her legs shaking as she tried get a grip on the floor and he spread her wide, grabbing her thigh as he did as he started thrusting into her.

Her eyes rolled back and she happily let him. The friction and stretching she was getting more than made up for his roughness. He slapped her thigh, leaving a temporary hand print before he reached down to finger her while he fucked. She squealed against his hand, bucking erratically at the assault of sensations but he held her steady. Though his breathing did increase next to her ear.

“Damn, girl,” he muttered and she moaned. “You are tight for being a whore.”

She laughed against his hand but it didn’t last long. It soon melted into moans again, her hips bucking against his cock and she reached for him, grabbing behind her at his armor and the hand on her thigh, squeezing every time he drove her almost to the edge.

She needed that stroked, to just be tipped a bit into aetherius and he moved his fingers over her clit in a circular motion driving her wild. She lost her thoughts, her bestial instincts coming out and she acted like a stereotypical bitch in heat. He seemed to approve.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he hissed against her ear and she loudly groaned. “Spread yourself more.”

She tried but she was already at her limit but he didn’t seem to notice. He let go of her mouth, grabbing her hips to move as he pleased and she panted hard as he fucked her, her feet still struggling to get a grip on the floor.

“S-Slitter!” she cried as he bucked into her, his cock straining and he ignored her, thrusting in twice before his nails dug deep into her skin. She shook, whimpering against him, his thrusts brutal and his touch the same and he held himself still before he seemed to come undone, fucking her shallow for a few seconds before he groaned and swore she could feel it when he came.

He reached down, his fingers at her clit again and it took him less than a minute to turn her into a loud, panting mess, her body clenching hard around him as her throat sang his name. He held her for a minute, the spots dancing in her eyes as he did when he began to relax and slowly he leaned back again until his shoulders hit the back wall. He let go of her and for once she didn’t know if she was grateful for that or not.

She closed her legs, her feet finally finding a grip and she let out a long sigh. The itch she needed scratched was gone and she was left sitting on his cock, the thing still pulsing slightly inside her. It wasn’t pleasant but it was interesting and she ground her hips down again until he slapped her backside making her yelp.

“Hey!”

“Stop it,” he muttered and she pretended to pout but he didn’t respond. She sighed.

“Alright, fine,” she muttered. “Men.” Finally he pulled out, come spilling onto the floor as he did and Pema couldn’t help but giggle a bit in embarrassment, her eyes on the small puddles. “Wow, you came a lot.”

He pushed her to get her off but she remained, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

He merely sneered at her. “Go back to your room, you whore.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, no need to insult the woman who made you empty your balls.”

She shoved her rather roughly and she slapped the inside of his thigh but she got the message. Slowly she stood, hissing as she did and she staggered for a moment, come still dripping from her body and he let out a sigh as she bent down to grab her smalls.

“Wait,” he said and she paused, looking back to him. “What was your name again?”

She grinned. “Pema.”

“See you around, Pema,” he said in a rather satisfied tone and she smirked, winking at him before she began her long journey back to her own room. The lantern inside it was dying leaving minimal light but she could see Njada had turned in her sleep, more spread out on the bed making her sigh as she locked the door.

“Whatever,” she shrugged, dropping her underwear onto the dress she had on before and she slid onto the bed, trying to get comfortable - though the fact there was only a thin pelt between her back and the plank didn’t help. She turned on her side, reaching down between her legs and she felt how puffy and sore she was.

She finally closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she needed to honor what the second councillor had asked of her and make the trek to Tel Mithryn. Though somehow she wondered if she could delay it.

There was still a group of miners she could have fun with. And her body did ache for a good, furious orgy. The last time she got that was when she was thrown in Cidhna mine and the thought alone made her shudder as she remembered the brutal forsworn and their absolute determination to use her as much as they could. It was just like Slitter had been only there was six of them around her and she bit her lip at the memory.

Her eyes opened for a second to look at the door, the dim light barely outlining it. Would the dunmer be the same? Would those miners go nuts if she walked up to them barely dressed? She shuddered and chewed her lip at the thought, closing her eyes again to this time embrace sleep.

Tomorrow she would find out. Or she would head to Tel Mithryn to visit a certain cranky wizard and his adorable little apprentice.

 

\-------

 

Her beast blood kept her from a restful sleep. She turned a few times, her blood pumping hard through her veins but somehow she was allowed a small slice of rest. She was out cold when Njada started knocking the bed and when she finally responded, her eyes were weary and her senses dull from the sleep.

“What time is it?” she whined and Njada sighed from beside her.

“Time for you to get up,” she replied as she grabbed her armor and tossed it at her. “You know you growl in your sleep?”

Pema smiled a bit, fumbling with her armor which felt heavier in her hands. “Sorry. Maybe I was having a dream of chasing goats across the Reach? Like dogs do?”

“Or Dunmer men,” Njada raised a brow and Pema smirked but she didn’t press further, obviously ignoring the underwear on the floor. “What are we doing today? Are we going to see that old bastard?”

She slowly got up, trying to figure out how to put her armor on as she was still not fully awake. She put her leg through the wrong hole at first and she let out a sigh but turned to her companion to continue talking. “Come on, Njada. Neloth isn’t that bad.”

“He’s bad,” she cut in. “I’d rather listen to Vignar’s stories all day than spend more than a minute around that pompous, snotty prick.”

“Harsh.”

“It’s the truth.”

She couldn’t argue with her on it and she left it, though she did pause once she put on her breastplate. “Do you think I have time to stop in at the mine?”

Njada’s brow raised. “Pema…”

“Just for a quick second.”

“Pema, it’s past early morning. And, if I may remind you, you told the councillor you would go take care of some reavers.” She cringed at that. “So, no. You don’t have time to take a dicking from a bunch of miners.”

She chewed her lip. “Yeah, but, like a quick second.”

“Pema,” Njada warned and she let out a long sigh.

“This sucks.”

“You can get your fill later,” her friend reminded her. “For now… can we just leave? My sword arm is getting flabby and that plank bed was less than pleasant. I’d rather sleep in the ash.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It didn’t take her long to get ready but saying goodbye to Geldis took longer than they both expected. He wanted to know what their plans were, offering advice from some of the rumors he heard and Pema was practically dragged out by Njada, her hand waving to the innkeeper from the stairs.

“I will come back!” she yelled and Geldis smiled.

“Rent a room from me earlier if you do!” he said and she grinned before she finally fell in line with Njada. Her friend glared at her and she blushed.

“What?”

“Come on,” she stressed, both stepping outside into the market and the heavy air from the salty wind blowing across the ocean. The sky was grey and lifeless and everywhere she looked she could only see dull shades of red and brown making her sigh. Though it shouldn’t be much of a surprise by now. This was what Raven Rock was which made her want to interact with the locals even more to stave off her boredom.

Njada put on a scarf to protect her face but Pema didn’t bother. It wasn’t that irritating and the salty air cleared her lungs, even with the bits of ash in it. She caught a glimpse of Slitter near Fethis’ stall, flushing a bit as she did but it didn’t last long.

Njada snapped her fingers and she fell back to reality, following her friend towards the Bulwark and out of Raven Rock. Before they got to the edge, a voice came.

“Pema, Njada.” She turned around immediately to see who was addressing her and she flushed a bit.

“Captain Veleth.”

“Nice to see you in your proper armor,” he said as he came to them and she flushed at his statement. Njada turned slightly but she was looking out towards the ashen lands that lay past the town, not paying attention to the captain. “You’re heading out?”

“I’m going to see Neloth,” she said, looking to Njada who didn’t respond. “I’ll be back in town again soon, I promise.”

“Well, be careful out there,” he advised. “Those ash spawn are still being conjured. General Carius may be dead but those monsters still live on under the soil.”

“We will,” she promised and after bidding him off, she followed Njada out of the Bulwark. “He’s quite the kind one for a Dunmer, isn’t he?”

“I suppose,” she muttered. Pema began to grin.

“Do you think he’d be against having a roll? I know he’s a captain but surely he gets urges too, don’t you think?” She asked and Njada gave her a look that made her puff her cheeks up. “What!?”

“He’s in love with someone already, you know,” she said and she gaped at her.

“What? Who!?”

Njada sighed, trying to think. “I don’t know her name. It’s Fethis’ daughter. Haven’t you heard them in the market? He practically confesses his love to her every time.”

That made her frown. “No,” she finally said. “I never heard that.”

“You need to be more observant, Harbinger,” Njada said, rather cross. “And stop thinking so much with your pussy.”

She shoved her. “Oh, whatever! Says the woman who spent a week once chasing after that Altmer adventurer when he stopped in the Bannered Mare!”

Njada shoved her back. “I did other things than chase him!”

“You fucked him every night!” she began to smile, shoving her again as they walked down the ashen path. Njada elbowed her good in her side, right where her armor was weak.

“Shut up!”

“Slut!” Pema laughed and Njada grabbed her helmet and pulled it down over her eyes making her yelp.

“That’s you!” she was starting to grin. “I’ve never met a girl who was more of a whore than you!”

“I’m a dragon! I can be!” she stuck her tongue out and Njada playfully shoved her again. The two had no troubles as they crossed the destroyed land of Solstheim, the wind dying down after some time allowing them to breathe in pure air.

Only past the old Imperial fort did they run into trouble, two ash spawns forming to come after them but Njada’s mace and Pema’s swords took care of them quick. She left the ores as they were no use to them but she gathered up the ash making Njada frown.

“Why are you doing that?” she pointed as Pema collected what she could into a jar.

“I need some,” she said. “To bribe Neloth.”

Njada’s brow raised. “Please don’t say you want to fuck him. He’s older than fucking balls.”

Pema grinned. “Doesn’t mean he still isn’t fine looking.”

“Does his dick even work?” her friend said, not listening. “Hasn’t it shriveled off like the rest of his bony old behind?”

“He’s not that bad, Njada.”

“I’ve known Horkers who have been better than him,” she said and Pema rolled her eyes. “Come on, I guess. Let’s fucking go.”

“You lead.”

“Fine,” she agreed and once again they began to travel. They moved further inland once the trees began to tangle into indescribable messes and from a distance she could finally see Tel Mithryn.

She could also hear the sounds of Dusty, her distinct call echoing off the hills.

“Hey, Njada?” she asked. “Can we stop and see Revus?”

Her friend looked to her. “Hm? You want to see that dunmer merchant?”

“Yeah,” she said as she looked beyond the trees, the giant silt strider just visible over the hill. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him.”

“I don’t mind,” she agreed and they fell in line together, making their way back towards the coast until one of the last silt striders in Morrowind came into full view. Njada whistled quietly. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if we had those in Skyrim,” she said. “It would make carrying loot easier.”

“And traveling,” Pema said. “Gods know it gets pretty tiring trying to walk to Solitude from Riften.”

“You just need better stamina,” Njada said and she elbowed her.

“I have more stamina than you.”

“Unlikely.”

She shoved her again making her smirk. “Bitch.”

“Whatever, Harbinger,” she said in an almost sarcastic voice. “Come on, before I die of old age.”

It didn’t take them long to move down the slope but when they got closer, Pema got an idea. She motioned for Njada to stay back and she began to crouch, walking as silently as she could as she came to the small camp Revus lived in.

She snuck up behind him, trying to hold in her giggles but it was almost impossible and she couldn’t help but let her shoulders shake as a few escaped her lips. He raised his head and she had to move quickly, sweeping across the ashen sand and she grabbed him from behind, covering his eyes making him stiffen.

“Guess who?” she giggled, pressing herself against his back and the dunmer paused, a smile crossing his lips.

“Hmm, who is that?” he said, his voice light. “My, could it be my cousin, Drela, from Blacklight?”

“Nope!” Pema giggled more and he cracked a toothy grin.

“Oh, then it must be the little dragon from Skyrim! What was her name…?”

She let go of him, pulling herself around and she elbowed him gently. “Revus!”

“Oh, I was right!” he smiled, putting down his tankard and she moved into his arms for a hug making him laugh. “Pema, my dear, how are you?”

“Fine,” she said, pressing her cheek against his chest and from behind her, Njada came, her arms crossed but her expression was friendly. “How have you and Dusty been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“We’ve been fine, my dear,” he said before he looked to Njada. “Njada, and how are you? Still fighting bears in your spare time?”

Njada smiled a bit, flexing her muscles. “No. Thought I’d move up to dragons. More of a workout.”

He laughed at her statement before he let Pema go a bit, the young girl leaning back. “Ah, my two girls. What brings you out to the edge of the world?”

“Miraak,” Pema said. “Still dealing with him.”

“Ah,” he said, pausing after a moment. “Doesn’t Miraak lay in the mountains to the North? Or how did that go?”

She smiled a bit. “He’s technically in a plane of oblivion but his temple is to the North. But I’m here to go to Tel Mithryn. I need some potions.”

He raised a brow. “Hm. Good luck with that. That old Telvanni wizard up there seems like he’d rather blast someone for an experiment than sell them anything.” He paused. “You know, I may have a potion around that you can buy.”

“Really?” Njada perked up and Pema sighed.

“You probably don’t have enough though, do you Revus?” she asked. “I need a lot. I mean, I’m going to be dealing with reavers and probably ash spawn. I need more than a bottle.”

He frowned before he moved, going to his bag to search and Njada gave her a cold look which made her give her one back. She began mouthing something to her, insults on how they could just take this and leave but she wasn’t having it. They needed to see Neloth. There was a reason he was a master wizard.

Revus returned with a single bottle. “This is all I have,” he said and Pema sighed. “I can sell it to you, if you want.”

“How much?” Njada cut in and he pondered it.

“A hundred septims.”

“No deal,” Pema said immediately as she sat down in front of him, her hands coming to rest on her thighs. “Healing Potions are worth 20 septims at most and that’s the price I can get them from Neloth.”

Revus frowned.

“Pema…” Njada growled but she ignored her, looking to Revus.

“I can’t go above twenty septims.”

He pressed his lips thin. “I have a business to maintain myself, Pema.”

“And I feel for you, Revus,” she said. “But I’m not exactly overloaded with money.”

“Though we would be if someone didn’t go gamble it away,” Njada snapped from behind and her ears turned pink but she didn’t respond to her friend. She looked to Revus, giving him a pout and he frowned at her.

“Pema, I’m sorry, but… I can’t go lower.”

She leaned over. “What if we struck a deal?” She asked, slowly leaning over enough for him to see almost down her armor. He stood making her frown.

“If you think I’ll sleep with you for the price of a healing potion, you can forget it,” he said making her puff up her cheeks. He sighed, looking to Njada, before he ran a hand through his hair underneath his hood. “But, I haven’t seen you two in a while. So… consider this a gift.”

They stared at him. Pema jumped up, the ash around her scattering. “R-Really?”

He held the bottle out to Njada who slowly smiled as she went to take it. “Yes. I suppose. I’m feeling generous today though normally this is not something I would do.”

Njada took the potion just in time as Pema threw herself against him, hugging the dunmer tight making him grunt. “Revus, you are the best!”

“H-Hey! Careful!” he stuttered but she didn’t listen as she pressed against him, nuzzling his neck. “P-Pema!”

“We really appreciate this, Revus,” Njada said in a more diplomatic tone. “If there is anything you need, please. We’ll be happy to oblige.”

“Yeah!” Pema agreed, leaning back to look at him and he flushed a bit making her giggle. She hugged him again and finally he sighed and accepted it.

“Just… get rid of Miraak, or whatever his name is,” he said. “The Dunmer at Raven Rock suffer enough. We all have, what with these ash storms and half of our home destroyed. We don’t need anything else trying to push us into the ground.”

“I promise, I’ll get rid of him,” Pema purred and Njada nodded in agreement.

“We will,” she said, her stance firm until Dusty began cooing again, her lonesome calls echoing off the land. The companion looked to her, her fingers tapping the bottle in her hand and she seemed a bit distracted when Revus spoke.

“You can go see her, you know,” he nodded. “I’m sure Dusty would love some company.”

Njada slowly smiled, tucking the bottle in her knapsack before she looked to Pema. “Harbinger?” she said and Pema turned to her. “Shall we?”

She looked at her friend, quiet as she did and slowly she gave her a small look. One that she gave her sometimes in inns and taverns. Njada rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but she obeyed. “Fine. I’m going to go see her. You can wait here.”

“Sure, Njada,” she said with a grin and Revus frowned at the two of them. Njada moved, going to the bridge and he looked down at Pema who merely smiled to him.

“I don’t like heights,” she lied and he frowned.

“Ah. I… see,” he watched Njada walk across the bridge that led to Dusty, her movements making it sway. “Wait, last time you went across-”

“Revus?” she cut in before he could finish his thought. “I really, really do appreciate you being so kind as to give us a potion.”

His eyes moved to her, her distraction working and he frowned before he let out a sigh and moved to sit down. She followed him, staying as close to him as she could and he looked into his tankard before he set it down.

“Yes, well, I suppose it’s the least I can do,” he sighed. “Your visits have been quite welcome. Usually I just deal with bandits and reavers but having someone who comes and doesn’t try to kill me for three gold is nice.”

She smiled at him, moving between his legs and her hands danced on his thighs making him pause. She pretended not to notice.

“I did miss you,” she commented, her fingers making circles on his inner thigh. “Raven Rock is nice but no one really talks to me much now that I’m no longer a brand new tourist with potential gold.” Her fingers moved closer to him and he took in a slow breath.

“Pema.”

“Unlike you,” she said, her face moving closer to what she wanted. “You still like to talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over where his cock would sit and he stiffened. “Right?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Pema…”

“And you’re still excited to see me, right?” she ran her hand over him, squeezing a bit and he didn’t move, his hands balling into fists on his knee and she looked to him, their eyes meeting. She gave him a smile, licking her lips as she did.

“Pema,” he said but she moved before he could continue, sitting up better so her hands could have better access to him. She could feel his body respond to her.

“Just do it quick,” she purred, tugging at his belt as she did. “Come on, Revus. I haven’t seen you in a while. Don’t you remember that night we spent together?” She smiled at him and he pressed his lips together, looking to where Njada was again before he sighed.

“Yes, I remember that night,” he said quietly and she smiled at him.

“I think about it often,” she rubbed him more through his clothes, feeling him shift and slowly become hard. “I swear, this’ll be quick. Before Njada notices.”

He still seemed tense but his eyes flicked to Njada who was leaning over Dusty’s shell, talking to the silt strider. He sighed. “Fine.”

She gave him a wide grin and began wrenching down his belt. He jerked a bit at the rather harsh motion before he relaxed a bit and she quickly spit in her hand. She worked him hard, using her mouth after a second to get him slick before her own belt became undone. He watched her quietly before his eyes went to Njada.

“Relax,” she grinned as she began fiddling with her own armor, pulling down her slacks enough so she could sit on his lap, his cock brushing against her bare thigh. “Look to me, Revus. This will be quick, I promise.”

He sighed. “Alright,” he muttered as his eyes went to her and she gave him one of her best smiles. He slowly smiled at that and she leaned down, kissing his nose. “You are a real manipulative one, you know that Pema?”

She grinned and ground her hips down on him making him clench his teeth. “I know,” she winked. Slowly she reached between them, grabbing his cock to guide to her and she sunk down on him, slowly sighing as she did. She went down completely, her hands moving to grab his shoulders and he held her steady, his breathing slightly increasing as he did. She didn’t move at first, looking to him and the slight blush across his cheeks and it made her bite her lip, smiling as she did.

“Revus?” she said and his eyes met hers. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

He turned a deep red and scowled. “Cute? Dusty is cute. I am not cute.”

It made her giggle more. “No, you’re cute,” she said and she leaned in, brushing her lips against him. “Real cute.”

“Pema,” he sighed but he said no more. She kissed him, moving straight to pushing her tongue into his mouth and he accepted it, his hand moving up her back. It started out slow, with them adjusting until they were comfortable and once she had a firm grip on him, she began moving her hips. She rolled her body against his while he gently thrust up, pausing every so often to look to Njada until Pema grabbed his face and forced him to look at her.

“She won’t see,” she said and he sighed. “Come on, Revus. You’ve got a beautiful girl on your dick. Show her come attention.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

His mouth moved to her neck, tickling her a bit as he nibbled and she squirmed on him, giggling, her movements changing to thrusting back against him instead of her gentle rolling. The more he teased her, the hotter she got until she moved him back to kiss him, dominating his mouth for a moment. He didn’t seem to mind and when she pulled away, he was as breathless as she was.

“I wish you could use your tongue on me, like last time,” she panted slightly and he flushed. “I still melt when I think about that.”

His eyes flicked again to where Njada was before he looked back to her and he sighed, moving to kiss her. She grinned against his mouth. “If you ever come back alone, I will do it again,” he said and she shivered.

“My, Revus, you know just how to get to a girl’s heart,” she purred and he gave her a small smile before she kissed him back. Their pace increased, his hand moving to hold her tighter and she bounced on him, moaning into his mouth. The friction wasn’t enough for her but it did feel a bit more pleasant than how Slitter treated her. He wasn’t annoyingly gentle but he wasn’t making her toes curl either. She chose to accept it, happily riding him in a pleasurable rhythm when he pulled back a bit.

“Revus?”

“Just a minute,” he mumbled, leaning back a bit, steadying himself on the rock. He motioned for her to move forward a bit, her body soon over his and he once again looked to Njada. She found herself looking too but her friend was looking out towards the Red Mountain. He thrust up and she stiffened before she looked to him. He indicated she should move.

“Oh, you want me on top?” she said and he flushed a bit. “You should have just said.”

“I thought showing would be more effective,” he mumbled and she giggled but began. She controlled their rhythm, her movements rougher now that she did and slowly she began to build herself towards an orgasm. It wouldn’t be completely earth-shaking but the more she moved, the more she wanted it. He grabbed her hips, helping her, and she eagerly panted above him, careful not to moan too much. She knew Njada was well-aware of what she was doing but she still didn’t want to be too obvious.

But the way he was thrusting, she eventually had to cover her mouth, curling towards him. He dug his nails into her hips, trying to get her to go faster and she complied, bracing herself on his chest. She bit his tunic, letting her moans get absorbed into the fabric and he struggled to hold back his own groans, their pace getting to the point where she was losing it. She let her instincts take over, not caring if her friend heard or saw anymore as she needed to get off and she pressed herself against Revus. 

The closeness wasn’t her thing but she felt like if she didn’t, she was going to start howling with madness. It added pressure to her clit which she badly needed and she sucked harder on his tunic, her body feeling as if it was being electrified with the sensation. Her lust needed to be slicked and he wrapped his arms around her waist, his knees coming up.

It wasn’t earth-shattering, like she predicted but her entire body shook, her breath hitched, and the warm familiar feeling came over her that made her thrust against him quick, not stopping until her hips couldn’t take it and she fell on him, panting. He gripped her, not finished himself and she tried to clench around him, to give him the same friction but she was tired. He didn’t seem to mind though he held her tight and when his thrusting got erratic she trembled, his cock driving hard into her.

She decided to help him the only way she knew how. She leaned up and sucked the tip of his ear.

“Pema!” he hissed, nearly shouting her name before he bucked and grit his teeth. His thighs shook under her and she waited, clenching around him until he thrust into her a few times and stopped, falling back. She grabbed him before his head hit the rock, grinning as she did and she kissed the side of his neck.

He breathed heavily next to her, his hands slowly letting her go and she purred against him, nuzzling him before she slowly withdrew. It wasn’t graceful, her trying to stand, but she eventually got off, adjusting her gear as he did his. Njada was looking out over Dusty’s back, her eyes on the scenery and Revus looked to her, his eyes weary and his upper robes wrinkled. She could have done him again right then and there but the land was starting to darken and she had to move.

Pema smiled warmly at him. “Wait here,” she said, slowly making her way to her friend and Njada pressed her lips thin when she finally came to her side.

“You done?” she asked bluntly.

“I’m done,” she sighed in utter contentment and her friend rolled her eyes. “Come on. Guess we should finish our trek to Tel Mithryn.”

“You’re such a whore, Pema,” Njada sighed before she moved towards the wooden bridge. “Come on.”

She elbowed her. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

She didn’t respond but there was a slight smile that played on her lips. She walked past Revus, not bothering to acknowledge him much as he was now properly dressed again, his cheeks still flushed and she threw a hand up. “See ya.”

“Huh? Oh, uh, good to see you again, Njada,” he said, his cheeks turning a bit pink and Pema followed her, looking back at him to wink and blow him a kiss and he turned a deeper shade of red. She mouthed her goodbye to him.

‘See you, handsome’ she said and he furrowed his brows before he got it. He merely gave her a small wave, flushing as she did and she giggled. He gave her a small smile before he picked up his tankard and went back to what he was doing before.

She joined her friend, catching up to her side and they walked in tandem towards the sprawling mushroom forest that littered the southern shore of Solstheim. She wished she could have spent more time with him but the darker it got, the more she wanted to get to Tel Mithryn. Despite the fact it was a cluster of mushrooms, it was probably one of the safest places on Solstheim.

As they approached she looked to the largest tower was where Neloth resided and Pema had a feeling this time he might be happy to see her. She paused, checking her bag for the ash spawn before she continued. Njada looked back at her.

“Something wrong?” she asked and Pema shook her head.

“Nope, just making sure we have our bargaining chips,” she said. “Oh, and, Njada?”

“What?”

“Let me do the talking,” she smirked and her friend rolled her eyes.

“Gladly.”

 

 

\-------

 

 

“Hey Neloth!” she yelled, jumping onto the platform that led to the portal of Tel Mithryn, her armor jingling as she did. “I got some ash spawn! Come out here and see!”

“What?” a voice said from the side and the old Telvanni wizard stepped out of the area where he kept two caged spriggons, the beasts seeming to relax as he did. “Oh, it’s you. Wipe your feet. I don’t want your dirty footprints all over the place again.”

She wrinkled her nose and behind her Njada came.

“Prick,” she said but it was ignored and Pema went to the wizard, looking behind him to see his assistant.

“Hey Talvas,” she said and the poor boy looked up, shocked.

“H-Hey… Pema,” he stammered. Neloth got in front of him, looking at her while blocking his assistant from view.

“What do you want?” he said bluntly.

She focused on him, forgetting for a moment before she pulled out a small sack of ash. She opened it, showing him, and the wizard seemed interested for once in his life. He went to take it but she pulled back.

“No,” she pulled the ash spawn back, holding it out of reach making him glare at her. “This ash isn’t a gift. It comes with a price.”

“Oh, here we go,” Neloth said, rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. You need me to go kill Miraak because you’re too incompetent? Well, I have news for you, missy. I really have no interest in doing so and find his machinations rather-”

“What?” she said. “No, Neloth, I want potions! Healing potions! I’m dry as fuck right now!”

He paused and stared at her making her give him a look. “Come on!”

“That’s what you want?” he said. “Oh, fine. Talvas! Get over here and give her some potions. We should have some weak healing bottles around here somewhere.”

His poor assistant nodded, moving to go fetch them and he stepped closer to her. She still held the ash spawn away. “Not until I have those in my hand.”

“You’re not very trusting, are you?” Neloth said. “Though, that may be a good thing. It shows you do have a brain in your head.”

She rolled her eyes. Typical response from him. Njada sighed, moving to look at the tables full of gems as Talvas rushed around before he came to her. He had five potions. She stared.

“That’s it?”

“U-Uh,” Talvas stuttered. She ignored him, looking to Neloth.

“This ash spawn is worth a hell of a lot more than five potions.”

Neloth grumbled. “Well, if that’s all he can find that’s all you’re going to get. Now give it here. Or else I’ll take the potions with me and you get nothing.”

She stared at him, her tongue pressing against her cheek before she looked to how nervous Talvas was then to Njada.

“Njada?” she said. “I’m going to be a while. So, you can go outside if you want.”

Her companion looked up, frowning, before she got it. She shook her head, looking to Neloth and she shuddered before she left. The Master Wizard narrowed his eyes.

“What are you planning?” he said and she smirked. She held up the ash spawn, tempting him with it.

“I’ll take your five potions,” she said making Talvas look relieved. “But I also want a fuck.”

Neloth stared at her. “A fuck?”

“Yes,” she said. “From you.”

He crossed his arms, looking her up and down and he then rolled his eyes. “Ugh, women. Your gender is always looking for the next time they can get their loins slapped, aren’t they?”

She raised a brow. “Wow, how sexist of you.”

“Please. I’ve lived for longer than your ancestors,” he waved her off. “I’ve had scores of women come to me wishing to have a taste of the best wizard in all of Nirn. It doesn’t surprise me anymore.”

“And your ego,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Neloth, I don’t want it because you’re some Telvanni wizard. I’m horny. And you’re here. And I want the full payment of getting this ash spawn.”

“Ha!” he said. “So you want sex to get what you think is the full worth of ash spawn?”

“Yes,” she cut in, smiling. She looked to Talvas who had paled greatly, looking uncomfortable. It made her feel bad for the boy but really, she was making a deal. “So, what’s it going to be? Ash spawn for Healing Potions and sex? Or we both get nothing?”

Neloth rolled his eyes again. “You have bloody terrible bargaining skills.”

“I bargain for what I want.”

“Yes, I’m starting to see that. Here’s a tip, though. If you do this to Hermaeus Mora when you see him in his plane of Oblivion, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t go your way.” He paused. “Actually, why not ask him? I’d love to hear the outcome. It would be an interesting experiment. ‘Can an out of control girl tempt a daedric prince?’ I think I already know the answer to that but, for clarity, you should try it.”

“Ass,” she said, crossing her arms. “Can we fuck or what?”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” he said, turning to go move to a chair. He grabbed a book as he did making her frown. “Talvas, take my ash spawn. And be careful about it this time!”

He stared at him then he looked to her, his cheeks blazing red and she held out the bundle of ash. He frowned, juggling with the potions and she helped him, taking them from him to stick in her bag before she handed him the alchemy ingredient. He held it like it was on fire.

She dropped her knapsack down, unclipping the lower half of her armor and she walked towards Neloth, pulling her underwear off as she did. He sighed in what sounded like boredom but he spread his legs, waiting. She hopped onto his lap, grinning as she did and he picked up his book making her pause.

“Are you going to read?”

“Of course I am,” he said, annoyed. “Do whatever you want.”

“Neloth!”

He glared at her. “You wanted this. Not me. So have at it. Oh, but, you have to get me hard. And thrust. And get off yourself. That’s not my problem.”

She gaped at him. “You’re not interested. At all? I’m the dragonborn!”

He rolled his eyes. “The Nerevarine once came to me, begging for my legendary seed. And considering you’re hardly as impressive as they were - and I use that word lightly as both of you a really dull - I really don’t care.”

She grumbled. She would have fought him on it but she knew in the end it might just leave her with a pile of useless ash spawn and no potions or relief. She had to make do and she slid off him, moving to sit between his legs. He opened his book, flipping to a page and he settled himself in.

She rolled her eyes but got to it, working on his robes. She pulled his belt loose, tugging him free and she was shocked to see his cock. He was thick. Shorter than she thought but thicker than she expected. And he had no foreskin.

Her eyes moved up as if he would look down with an explanation but he kept reading, looking more interested in the words on the page in front of him than the damn girl on her knees looking at his dick. She found herself looking over her shoulder and she saw Talvas scurrying about. He was looking the other way as he did and she sighed. Poor boy.

But her task was the cock in front of her and she got to work. She did her old trick of laying her tongue flat against the head of the cock she had, licking up slowly before she nursed the slit but Neloth didn’t seem remotely bothered. She went deep then, swallowing him up, his soft cock not even twitching in her mouth and she frowned.

So she tried jerking him off but he still didn’t seem to want to become stimulated by it. Her mouth was added, her fingers brushing against his balls but all it for her was a sigh of annoyance from above. No matter what she did, he didn’t seem to want to get erect and it was starting to irritate her. 

She sat back, annoyed and when he flipped another page in his book, she slapped his calf making him pause. He made an angry expression and she crossed her arms.

“Can you at least try to be interested?” she complained. “I can’t work with a limp dick.”

“For the love of…” he muttered, his hand coming up to bring a bright ball being to life and he cast a spell on himself. He glowed white for a second before his cock began to rise and she stared as he went fully erect.

Her mouth dropped a bit. “What… did you just do?”

“Oh, some spell on of the other Telvanni Wizards figured out,” he brushed her off, reading intently. “He would have gladly been all over you. All he ever thought of was how to bed girls despite the fact he would have been better putting his talents to use for more worthwhile endeavors.”

She stared at him. “A Telvanni wizard… figured out a spell on how to get men erect,” she said and he looked over his book at her. “Is it because you’re too old to get it up or-”

He scoffed. “Believe me, I am spryer than you could ever handle. I just find you in particular rather… average and not enticing in the least.” She turned red at his words. “Nevertheless, have fun now. And be quick about it. I do have work to do you know.”

“Asshole,” she said but he ignored her. With his cock erect, however, she was able to get him slick and she focused on coating his cock with her saliva so she could ride it. After a few minutes he reached over to the table, grabbing something and he dropped it by her.

“Use that. You’re taking too long.”

She picked up the bottle, looking at it. “What is this?”

“Netch fat,” he said. “Quite potent actually if you drink it. Talvas nearly died on me, the stupid boy. But it does work well in lubricating gears. I had to use quite the amount of that at Nchardak to get some things working.”

“How did you get this?” she asked, opening the bottle. It had no smell which she was thankful of.

“Oh, you just ask the imbecile Skaal hunters. Sometimes they give you some, sometimes they keep it to themselves. Which is a shame because if they understood the magical properties this fat could hold I’m sure important discoveries could be made. Not just using the stuff to oil knives or light candles or whatever those simple folk do.” He looked down at her. “Do you think you could get me some more if you go up to the village? I need it more than they do.”

She glared at him. “No.”

“Suit yourself,” he grumbled, going back to his book. She poured a small amount on her hand, the contents thick and almost greasy but it would have to do.

“Is using this as lubricant wise?” she asked.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out,” he said. “Would be interesting to know. Not that I would ever use it but I’m sure someone would pay a great deal to have that knowledge.”

She rolled her eyes and began smearing the thick liquid onto his cock, only a small bit needed to make him shine. She let out a soft breath, feeling how she could barely get one hand around his girth and she let go to stand.

“Move your book,” she said and he made an irritated expression before he did. She climbed back on him, spreading herself as she did and she quickly rubbed the rest of the fat against herself. It made her feel slippery like she had been licked by a horker as horrible as that sounded but she made do.

She slid right on him, easily taking his entire length in and she shivered at the feeling. It was like a perfect fit and she looked to the old wizard who still seemed like his book was the most incredible thing he had ever found. It pissed her off. She was on his cock and he would rather read.

She moved. He grunted and looked to her. “You’re heavy.”

“You fucking asshole,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing his robes to lean towards him. “Hey, I’m riding you right now. Can you put down the book?”

He raised a brow. “No. This is far more interesting than what you are doing. You wanted this anyways. This sort of thing actually bores me.”

She could have choked him in frustration but instead she fell against him, flattening his book to his body making him growl.

“Don’t crumple my book!”

“Pay attention to me!” she barked, her hips starting to move into a faster pace and she could feel the friction between them beginning to build. The Netch fat did make him as slick as the sea and she rode him steadily, her legs spreading.

He, in turn, hauled his book up, looking at it from the side. “I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” she panted, gripping him harder as she thrust down. In all her years she never ever had a man not get interested in her after she mounted them and yet here she was with the most powerful wizard in Solstheim and he didn’t care. “Neloth, come on!”

He snorted. “I told you, you do as you please.”

“I’m fucking riding your fat cock!” she spat. “How can you not be turned on?”

He gave her a hard look. “I have had sex with a lot of women in my past. It gets old. Now, you may not be able to stop yourself since you lack half a cerebral cortex but I can because I am long past the point of leaving my work to stick my dick in something fleshy with a constantly flapping mouth. Now, finish up. You’re boring me.”

She grit her teeth and reached down, twisting his skin making him yelp but he didn’t retaliate. He only gave her a very dangerous look. She ignored it, leaning against him and she focused on her own pleasure. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from Neloth but at the same time, she had damn well charmed forsworn briarhearts and powerful necromancers. Yet one stupid wizard wouldn’t give her the time of day.

She closed her eyes and instead focused on something else. He was thick, she liked that, and by the gods she was going to enjoy herself. She rode him, panting as she did. If he wasn’t going to be interested then she was and she arched against him, rubbing her body with his. Every bit she could get to stimulate herself and she let out her moans. The louder she made them, the better it felt until she was bouncing hard on his lap, moaning as she did.

He merely shifted, reading his book over her shoulder and she clenched around him. By the gods, she wished she could duplicate his cock and put it on someone more agreeable because it was making her melt. She panted, falling back a bit. “Oh, gods, Neloth!” she whined, shifting so she got a bit of pressure against her clit. “F-Fuck me!”

He did no such thing but it didn’t matter. She was getting close and she gripped his robes harder, her hips driving down on him more when he let out a sigh. He shifted his book, holding it with one hand and his free one pushed between them. She paused, feeling him slide down her body before he settled between her legs. He spread her and began moving his index finger against her clit making her absolutely wild.

She let go of his robes, her arms wrapping around his neck making him try and pull away and he still read and she panted heavily next to his ear. “N-Neloth!” she begged. “Neloth, please! Please, please, please!”

She clenched around his cock, her hips going wild as she tried to ride both the sensation of sliding on him and his finger working her and when she finally caught up with the high she was chasing she gripped him tight, letting out a long, loud moan as her thighs shook and her body released. She thrust against him, coating his cock with her come and when she finally collapsed, she did it by slumping against him.

He withdrew his hand, wiping it on the front of his armor before he turned his page. She couldn’t believe it but she was too exhausted to complain. She remained against him, moving up slightly to let his cock slip out and she felt something follow it. He had come inside her and she couldn’t help but smirk.

“You came,” she said, her eyes closed and head resting against his shoulder but she damn well grinned at the fact. He merely moved to reading his book with two hands again.

“It was a physical reaction to you acting like a whore,” he said without interest. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I actually had come. This was more of a bodily function that I have no control of.”

She pushed herself up to face him, her eyes still weary and he gave her an annoyed look.

“I’m reading,” he said and she snorted.

“You are a fucking asshole, Neloth,” she said and he rolled his eyes.

“Can you get off me? You’re heavy and smell gross.”

She shoved him making him scoff before she got off, staggering a bit as she did. He didn’t seem concerned with her, moving his book back to a proper reading level and she went to grab her smalls and the rest of her armor. She had her fill and she hated to admit he felt a lot better than most of the men she had been with.

She saw Talvas out of the corner of her eye, his entire face a blood red and she sighed. Poor boy.

“Talvas!” Neloth said. “Bring me my ash spawn!”

Talvas hesitated before he did, walking awkwardly towards him. Neloth stood, his cock still exposed and he took the ash, tossing it on the table. “Get me a bowl too. And be quick about it!”

“Y-Yes sir,” his poor assistant said and he went to do as he bid. She put her clothes back on, shouldering her pack as she did and she looked to Neloth who didn’t seem to care.

“I’m going,” she called. He said nothing. “Neloth!”

“What? Oh. Whatever, I don’t care,” he said. “Go see Hermaeus Mora. Bargain with him, won’t you? I would very much like to know the details of that experiment. Oh and get me some Netch fat!”

It was her turn to roll her eyes but really, she didn’t expect less from the egotistical Telvanni Wizard. She jumped into the portal, floating down as she did and when she exited, the land was dark save for the lanterns that hung from Tel Mithryn. She sighed. Time to find Njada and get chewed out by her because she was going to of course complain about the sex she just had. She rubbed her face. It didn’t matter. She had a pack full of potions and she could go do as the councillor had asked. Once she was done then she was finding all the miners she could in Raven Rock to fuck. She wanted it damn bad now and she didn’t care if anyone knew.

She was about to leave when the door opened and she turned, watching as Talvas closed it behind him, his face to the door. He sighed, rubbing his neck before he turned and flinched when he saw her. “P-Pema!”

She raised a brow. “Talvas.”

“W-What are you doing here still?” he said then he flushed deeply and curled a bit. She looked at him, where his hands were situated and she found herself smiling. Oh. So, that was it. “I-Is your friend not around?”

“Talvas?” she said, watching him closely. “Did you get turned on from Neloth and me?”

He seemed to flush even more. “N-No.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “Actually, it would be nice to know. At least SOMEONE would have appreciated me.”

He didn’t reply, only looking embarrassed and she went back up, taking his wrist to pull away from his body. He trembled. “P-Pema, Pema wait!”

She looked to the bulge in his robes, reaching to touch it making him fall back against the door and she gently felt his length. He was a little undersized but who was she to judge. It was never how big you were but how you used it. Something Neloth clearly didn’t know.

“Talvas,” she said in a sultry tone. “Do you want me to take care of you?”

He bit his lip, looking incredibly virginal which only spurred her on and she moved closer to him.

“Would you like to fuck me? Treat me like I deserve, not like how your master did?” she asked and he shifted, embarrassed at her words. “Will you fuck me right, Talvas?”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes struggling to maintain contact with hers and he finally swallowed the lump that was in his throat.

“…I… If you you want,” he stuttered. She gave him a smile and she leaned down, running her tongue over his lips making him whimper before she pushed into his mouth. He shook as she kissed him, moaning against her and she had to giggle a bit. She should have just went to Talvas first. In fact, the way he acted made her get a bit worked up. She could go again. And the assistant was just cute enough for her to get off, even if he didn’t do it right.

But he couldn’t be worse than Neloth, the damn cold fish.

“Come on,” she said as they parted and she took his hand. “We can borrow one of the towers, right?”

“I-I… I can see if Varona will let us use the steward quarters.”

“Perfect,” she smiled, tugging him away from the door and he stumbled a bit but she caught him making him flush red. “After all, I’m sure you’ll be a lot better than your prick of a master. Right?”

He chewed his lip and she couldn’t help but smile, leaning up to kiss him again to calm his nerves. “Right?”

“R-Right,” he finally said and she grinned.

“Then come on, future Telvanni Wizard of Tel Mithryn,” she cooed. “Show the dragonborn a night she won’t forget.”

He merely went red.

“I-I’ll… I’ll try.”

 

\-------

 

“Absolutely not,” Varona said and the door was slammed making Talvas flinch slightly and Pema uncrossed her arms.

“Come on!” she shouted, banging on the door. “I cured your damn house!”

“P-Pema,” Talvas stuttered and she huffed, looking to the other buildings. “Maybe we should-”

“Come on, Talvas,” she said, cutting him off. “Let’s check that one. Maybe we can use it.”

“The kitchen?”

She was already heading down the stairs, crossing the ashen ground fast and he struggled to keep up, walking awkwardly as he did. She took the stairs two at a time and banged on the door to the kitchen.

She didn’t expect a male to answer the door and it took her off guard. “What? What’s all this banging?” he said and she found herself blinking.

“Are… you the cook?” she said and he focused on her as Talvas tried to catch up, a bit winded on the stairs. He frowned.

“Yes, sera, I am. Can I help you?” he said and she found herself looking at him. He wasn’t half bad. Actually, he was rather cute and she slowly drew her hands behind her back, trying to look innocent.

“I hope you can,” she said, biting her lip for a minute. “I really need to use your tower, if you don’t mind.”

“Use my tower?” he said, looking up at the small mushroom he occupied and she nodded.

“You see, my friend here needs some relief and I said I would do it,” she nodded to Talvas who went a blood red in embarrassment. “And I really don’t want to have sex in the ash. So, may I use your tower?” she pushed herself up on her heels, posing a bit. “You can join if you want.”

“W-What?” Talvas sputtered behind her and the cook looked down at her, taking in what she said. His brows slowly raised and he looked to Talvas who appeared close to fainting. His eyes moved over her and she gave him one of her award winning smiles.

She reached to her side, unbuckling her armor and she let her breastplate fall down a bit, exposing herself. His eyes went to her breasts and she bounced a bit, showing him.

“Please?”

He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything and his door opened more, indicating she could come in. She giggled, turning to grab Talvas and force him in as the poor boy seemed like he wouldn’t move even if the red mountain blew again and she hauled him in. Once she was inside, she began properly stripped, tossing her bag down with her armor, exposing herself. Talvas watched her, completely stiff, while the cook raised his head, watching her.

All there was in the rather small tower was a bedroll and she shrugged, accepting it. There was a warm smell of spiced roast cooking and she turned, moving to sit on one of the crates. She looked to Talvas, spreading her legs for a second so he could see her bare body before she crossed them again.

“Come on, Talvas,” she said. He didn’t move. “I’m not going to bite.”

He looked to the cook, trembling a bit. “Ulves, please… don’t mention this to Master Neloth,” he begged. The cook raised a brow but slowly went back to the cooking spit.

“I won’t,” he said making him relax a bit. “But it will cost you the next time you go to Raven Rock.”

“I-I’ll pay,” he said and the cook shrugged him off, moving to start tending to the flames of his fire. Pema tapped her fingers on the crate.

“Talvas,” she said and he looked back at her. She spread her legs fully so he could see and he bit his lip. “Come here.”

He glanced to Ulves before obeying her and when he was close enough she leaned forward and grabbed his robes, ripping them open. “H-Hey!”

She ignored him, falling to her knees and she put her mouth on his cock before she even freed him, soaking his smalls with saliva. She moaned against him, her hands running down his thighs and she licked at every part of him that she could. He shook, struggling for control and she giggled before she pulled back, her fingers hooking on the top of his loincloth.

“Let’s see what you look like, shall we?” she grinned and he flushed.

“P-Pema,” he whimpered and she pulled down. Just as she thought, he was a little smaller than what she was used to but he was already dripping. She leaned forward, licking the precome up making him jerk before she gripped his cock. He was hard for her, unlike his damn master, and she rewarded him for it. She took him fully in her mouth, easily doing so, and she slowly began pleasuring him.

He grabbed her shoulders, struggling to stand and she eventually had to stop. “Sit down,” she said, indicating to the crate. He did as she said, slowly sitting down and she spread his legs, swallowing him up again as she did. He whimpered, his fingers growing white as he gripped the edge of the crate and she grabbed one, moving it to her hair. He got the idea and he held on to her instead as she sucked him off.

Despite how much he had been leaking, he still had some stamina and she worked him hard to draw his come out. She touched his sack, lightly squeezing it just to add some pressure but he still didn’t blow, in a sense. He stiffened, fighting between whimpering and moaning, and she started working his slit with her tongue, pressing the tip inside when he finally let out a choked cry and came. It was if he had been holding it in for a long time.

She swallowed him up, encouraging him to let loose despite how much he remained stiff and struggling to breath and when he slumped back, his entire body finally relaxing she pulled off with a wet pop. He panted, his hair falling into his eyes and she couldn’t help but lick her lips. Damn, she should have just went to him first. He was really cute.

She crawled onto him making him grunt as he had to support her weight and she kissed him, pulling on his tongue. He whined into her mouth, letting her angle his head and control them when Ulves tapped his spoon on the side of the copper pot.

She stopped, pulling back to look over his shoulder and he set his spoon down, looking to them. She licked her lips.

“Want to join?” she asked and Talvas shifted under her, uncomfortable. The cook looked at her, then to Talvas who flushed before he rolled up his sleeves. He came behind her, spreading her legs and his fingers touched her making her shiver. He didn’t play with her, only checked how wet she was and he pulled back, looking to his fingers.

He looked to Talvas. “She needs to be a bit wetter,” he said and the poor apprentice frowned, his ears turning pink. “Get her wet while she gets me slick.”

“W-What?” Talvas sputtered and she leaned up, grinning.

“You want me to get you off?” she asked Ulves and he nodded making her nearly giggle. “Ask and you shall receive.”

He stepped back as she got off Talvas and she turned, grabbing the top of his belt to start pulling down. She was greeted with a rather average cock but he was already getting hard making her job easier. She sucked the side of his shaft, trying to get him upright and behind her, Talvas leaned back up. He swallowed, unsure of what to do and Ulves looked to him.

“Finger her,” he said. “You know how, right?”

The poor apprentice frowned. “Y-Yeah… I think I can figure it out.”

“Do this with your fingers,” Ulves said, bringing his hand up. Pema tried to see but her angle didn’t allow her so she continued sucking on the cock before her. “Move them like this. Or like this.”

“O-Okay,” Talvas sighed and he went to his knees behind her, his fingers shaking when they touched her skin. She pulled off Ulves to moan and look over her shoulder at him. Talvas flushed.

“Don’t be shy,” she said, reaching between her legs to guide him. He had to get closer to her, his breath on her shoulder and she smiled. “Like this, cutie.”

He went stiff at her pet name and she smirked but ignored it. She grabbed his fingers, showing them how to move and when he got the idea she went back to Ulves’ cock, sucking at the base while her hand worked his head. He shifted slightly, grabbing her pony tail and she licked up his shaft, trying to get him wet.

But the more Talvas moved against her, the more she began to get distracted and she soon was struggling to suck Ulves’ cock, her legs shaking as the apprentice worked her. She hadn’t had a proper threesome in a while and she had to keep it together lest she lost her chance. She got on her knees, grabbing Ulves to hold him steady and she swallowed him, moving quickly to get him slick.

He was getting close while her head was getting light from Talvas’ fingers and before she came Ulves pulled back. She whined as the cock left her mouth and she tried to pull him back but he didn’t let her.

“Talvas, stop,” he said and the poor boy did. “You. Was it Pema?”

She panted. “Yeah. That’s my name.”

“Turn,” he said. “On your back.”

She looked to Talvas who looked completely confused and she did as he said, moving to hold herself up on her forearms. Ulves began pulling his clothes off, his slim body showing signs of some muscle but not a lot and he looked to Talvas, indicating he should follow.

He hesitated, looking to his robes and he looked to Pema. She nodded. “Go on,” she said. “I would like to see what you look like anyways.”

He didn’t say anything but his fingers shook as he began undoing the clasp that held part of his robes up. Ulves moved, kneeling beside her and she watched as he spread her legs a bit wider. His fingers ran close to where she was aching but never touched and when Talvas had stripped he nodded to him.

“You ever pleasure a girl before?” he asked and Talvas hesitated.

“…Once.”

Pema looked to him. Poor boy. She reached to him, touching his leg and he flinched a bit before he relaxed, embarrassed. “You’re doing fine, Talvas,” she said and he didn’t seem too happy with the remark but it did make him stop fussing. Ulves reached down, spreading her and she groaned at his touch.

“Lick here,” he pointed. “In a steady motion. Don’t stop.”

“U-Uh, okay…”

“I’m going to work her,” he said, his fingers moving down and he turned them, sinking two into her. She shuddered, loving it and she spread herself more.

“Gods, yes,” she whined. Talvas’ eyes met hers for a second, as if seeking approval and she nodded to him making him go down. His breath against her clit made her tense, clenching around the fingers inside before she relaxed.

Slowly, he licked her, unsure but she let him know it was good with a low moan. He hesitated before he did it again and she grabbed his arm, her nails digging into the flesh.

“Yes…” she begged and he got the confidence he needed. He started slowly, licking her clit shyly before he picked up the pace and applied the pressure she needed. Her toes curled and she fell back, whimpering as she did and as the adorable apprentice teased her most sensitive part, Ulves went down. His fingers withdrew from her, being replaced with his tongue making her jerk in shock and he trailed down before he poked at her other hole.

She didn’t clench. She knew where this was going and she let him push inside her as his tongue thrust in and out of her pussy. Talvas sucked at her clit, his tongue running around the start of her folds with inexperience but it was getting her off. She arched her back, grabbing her breasts for a second before the rug behind her and she brought her knees up, letting out a loud moan. Two guys going down on her. Tava be praised for it.

She began bucking as Ulves inserted two fingers into her rear, fingering her a bit faster while his tongue flicked inside her. He pulled back making her whine and he stopped Talvas which made her lean up in irritation.

“D-Don’t stop!” she cried and Ulves smirked at her. He looked to Talvas.

“Switch me,” he said. “Go down on her there.”

“A-Alright,” Talvas frowned but he did as he said, moving to lick at her opening, his tongue unsure but Ulves’s mouth knew what to do. He pushed another finger into her rear fitting three which he thrust in and he took hold of her clit with his mouth.

Then he sucked and she nearly lost it.

“T-Tava!” she shouted, thrashing against the sensation and he worked her over easily, sending her thighs shaking from the need to come and her hips rolling. Talvas pulled back, unable to keep a grip and she shouted as Ulves took her to the edge. His other hand came in, replacing his mouth as his middle and index finger swiped fast over her clit and she came with a shout, her head hitting the floor as she did. She rode it, crying out as she did and Talvas back away from her slightly.

She rolled on her side, panting as her head was filled with black dots which blinded her and hands came to grab her again. She was pulled, being taken into someone’s lap and she felt a hard cock against her rear.

“Gods, yes,” she moaned, despite her exhaustion. Ulves spread her, reaching between her legs and she moved, trying to help. His cock slid between her, his hands trying to steady her and she eventually let him take over. He spread her wider, shifting her body to him and he pressed against her backside. She moved, her hands coming forward to brace herself on the odd, hard floor that made up the kitchen and she gasped, looking to Talvas. He was watching with a shocked expression but he didn’t look away.

She sunk on Ulves, taking him a little at a time since it had been a while since she had done anal and when she felt his base she let out a moan. He pulled her back, lifting her leg to show Talvas and the boy looked like he was going to faint.

Pema only panted, her entire body on fire and she reached down, spreading herself. “T-Talvas… here,” she whined, her fingers pulling back her folds to expose her hole. “F-Fuck me here.”

“B-But,” he said and Ulves breathed against her neck making her clench around him.

“Come on,” he said. “Take her pussy.”

He hesitated, shifting but she could see he was hard again. She swallowed, panting a bit at the sensation of Ulves inside her as it felt so damn foreign and good and she licked her lips.

“Talvas, please,” she moaned. “I need you.” He pressed his fingers together. “Please, come fuck me. Fuck me better than Neloth. Fuck me hard.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes roaming over her body and he slowly moved. Ulves pulled her back, spreading her legs a bit more so he could fit and he awkwardly came to her, trying to figure out what to do. She reached down and grabbed his cock making him tense, pulling him forward to guide to her entrance and she rubbed his head against her wet folds.

“Here,” she groaned, pushing him in. He paused, his breaths coming out in small pants. “Here, Talvas. I need it. I need you in me.”

He finally complied, awkwardly trying to grab her and Ulves let him take her legs. His grip on them was shaky and they had to adjust so he could fit, Ulves taking to lying down more, but when he began sinking into her she arched her back, clenching on the two cocks.

This was what she wanted. And it did not disappoint her.

Ulves was the first to move making her as well and they set the rhythm for Talvas who looked as if he was going to burst. She stroked his arms to soothe him, clenching around his cock and he began to let loose a bit, dominating her somewhat which made her moan loudly.

Ulves reached from behind, grabbing her breasts and he kneaded them making her arch and squirm against the both of them.

“More!” she asked, finding that grinding herself on the two felt better than trying to figure out who to thrust against and they complied. Or, Ulves did anyway. He bucked into her in a long, slow motion that made her toes curl and her hands grip at him wildly. He drew her out, made her quiver while Talvas still tried to find his stride. He went fast, but he was shallow and she didn’t react to him as much as she did Ulves.

He flushed, pausing midway causing her to look at him and he began to pull out.

“T-Talvas, don’t!” she begged, grabbing at him and he hesitated. “More!”

He frowned, embarrassed. “I-I don’t know what to do,” he complained. “T-This is new to me.”

Ulves provided the answer. “Fuck her like you would if I wasn’t here,” he said. Talvas frowned. “Grab on and give it to her.”

He tried, adjusting his arms and she finally took them, moving one to her hip and the other to under her breast. “Hold me here,” she said and he flushed, doing as she said. Ulves picked up the rhythm again making him eventually move and she went back to rolling her hips against the both of them, soaking in the feeling.

She loved the sensation of the both at the same time, both grabbing at her body, holding her in place while they used her. Talvas panted from above, his inexperienced motions making her giddy while Ulves controlled thrust to drive her crazy made her moan like she was drowning.

They picked up the pace, Ulves grip on her breasts making her squirm until he let go of one to reach between her and Talvas, finding her clit to stroke. She shouted, grabbing onto the poor apprentice who stiffened when she did and she thrust down hard.

“Oh, Tava!” she cried, riding Ulves hand and cock. Talvas tried to move, his position now awkward and she gasped against him, her nails dragging down his skin. She looked at him, his face tense and ears red and she pulled at his neck. She had to kiss someone and he was right there and she moaned deeply into his mouth, grinding against the cocks inside of her making her crazy.

She lapped at Talvas’ tongue making him pant, his thrusts increasing and she was overloaded with sensations. Talvas’ cute moans, Ulves fingers working her throbbing clit, both of their cocks thrusting into her. She came first, crying out to her gods as she did and her nails raked down the apprentice’s arm making him shudder, his orgasm close.

He came next, whining as he did and she grabbed him, kissing him deep to swallow his moans. He gripped her hard, sweat forming on his neck and when she pulled back, shaking herself he pressed against her.

“Azura,” he whimpered. “Oh, please don’t make this stop.”

Ulves was last, only grunting as he did and he relaxed after, slumping back to let Pema fall against him. Talvas collapsed against her and she caught him, holding him against her. His head hung over her neck, his pants against her shoulder and she rubbed his arms to soothe him when Ulves pulled away. He was done.

She groaned at the feeling of him sliding out of her, his wet cock running briefly over her backside and he went to stand, grabbing his clothes. Talvas remained against her still, exhausted and she soothed the boy, laying back herself.

Ulves shrugged on his clothes, moving to open the door a bit to bring in some fresh air and she watched him, curious.

“Ulves, was it?” she said and he looked to her.

“Yes, Sera,” he replied and she smiled a bit.

“You’re very skilled with your mouth,” she said. He grinned a bit, looking out at the darkened landscape. “I might have to come back sometime and ask you to taste me again.”

He went to the pot still simmering on the fire and he checked it for a moment before he closed the lid. His eyes went back to her.

“As long as I’m not busy, you’re welcome back any time.”

She giggled a bit in excitement and above her, Talvas stirred. He leaned up, weary and she looked to him, biting her lip. She had to touch him, moving his hair back making him flush and she looked into his eyes. He swallowed, his embarrassment coming back.

“Feel better, cutie?” she said and he went red.

“I-I…” he stammered and she giggled, leaning up making him do as well and she kissed the side of his neck making him stiffen.

“I do hope you’ll inherit Tel Mithryn soon,” she said, her fingers running over his chest making him swallow. “I would love to be under you when you’re the Master Wizard.”

“U-Under me?” he said and she grinned. Since he was still inside her she decided to clench around him making him pause before she thrust and he went rigid.

“Yes, under you,” she purred. “Or on top, if you want. Or on my side or on a chair or half on a table while you do as you please to me.”

“P-P-Pema…” he stammered, his ears now red and she laughed, moving off of him and she winced when they parted. She would have to come back and see him again. This left her in just the right amount of weary pleasure and soreness.

She tilted his head, kissing his nose and she went to fetch her gear, tugging it on loosely. She left her underwear off, not in the mood to bend over much and she went to the door, turning to look back at the two.

“Thanks for the great hour,” she said, winking to Ulves who smiled a bit and went back to the simmering pot. “When I come back, we should do this again. I think I need more practice with you two.”

She left before Talvas could reply and she took the steps down, now looking for Njada. Her friend wasn’t around the buildings nor was she in the Apocathery or back in Tel Mithryn where Neloth was torturing the spriggons again. It worried her and she rushed around the grounds, looking for any sign of her but there was none.

“Njada?” she shouted. Only silence met her back. Her eyes cast behind her at the towers and she looked forward to the now black landscape of Solstheim. “Njada!”

Nothing came back and she hesitated. She looked once more to Tel Mithryn before she ran farther away from it. “Njada! Njada, where are you? Njada!”

There was still no reply. She took in a breath, her nerves beginning to shake as her Companion never just left her and she found herself tapping her arms in wild, frantic motions. 

Fuck it.

She began to strip, putting her bag under a certain mushroom where she could find it again and she stepped out into the ash, naked. The moon wasn’t full but she could still do with it and she closed her eyes, concentrating.

The funny thing about being a werewolf is that it was something that oddly lay dormant in her. She could always feel it but she had control unless the moons were out but that was rather obvious. And with that control came the ability to tap into it when she pleased. She didn’t do it often as Kodlak’s death had made her reconsider if it was a gift but if she used it sparingly and only when necessary, it was a good.

So, she began to change. Her eyes turned to blood, her mouth filled with teeth, her fingernails grew to claws and her limbs extended, bursting with power. She didn’t howl when it was done - that was stupid and would have alerted all Tel Mithryn - but when she launched herself up the ashen cliffs, running with the wind in her face, she let out a wild howl, her red fur blazing across the plains. She leapt over rocks, crushed trauma roots under her paws and when she came to a cliff she scaled it. At the top, she let her beast blood run wild and she shouted to the wind.

She was yelling Njada but it came out more as a howl. But Njada, if she was near, would know. All the Companions knew her call. It was the call for them to come to her and as she waited, she began to hunger.

One meal would be alright. Wouldn’t it?

She rushed from the cliff, into the broken trees, the scent of men on the wind and she let her animal side take over.

 

 

When she came back down, she was in a shack, her vision blurry and her body aching. She groaned, struggling to lean up and she heard a voice.

“Easy, girl.”

It alerted her immediately and she turned, her face red. She was naked, save for a pelt which slid off her body and she reached for a weapon but there was none. A person - she didn’t know what - looked to her, their entire body encased in ebony armor and she pulled the pelt to cover herself.

“Who are you?”

The person tilted their head.

“Who am I?” they said with the accent of a male dunmer. So they were a dunmer. She hoped. “Who are you, naked girl?”

She went red, looking down at herself. “I-I asked you first!”

The man crossed his arms. He looked out at the coming dawn before back at her. “Falas Selvayn.”

She had no idea who that was.

“Now who are you, naked girl?”

She turned a bit pink. “P-Pema.”

“Pema…” he said her name. “And what were you doing collapsed in the wilds of Solstheim?”

“Collapsed?” she said. She thought for a moment. She turned, went wild. Then she got hungry. Then, she had no idea. Judging by how he was acting, it might have been safe to say he didn’t know she was a werewolf but still, she was wary. He looked to her. Or she supposed he did as she couldn’t see his eyes from the armor.

“Were you attacked?” he asked. “Reavers? Did they-?”

“N-No,” she admitted. “No, no, thank the gods.” He relaxed a little.

“Then what were you doing in the wilds, naked girl?”

She frowned. She wasn’t going to tell him and if he was trying to trap her into saying she wasn’t going to do it. After all, he could be a werewolf hunter. The thought made her think of Njada and how she still hadn’t found her. The situation wasn’t good and she let out a sigh.

So, with her being weaponless and not willing to lie so much to save herself, she let the pelt go, exposing her body to him. He watched her.

“I was looking for something - no, someone,” she said. “I’m aching and I really need relief.”

“Aching?” he said and she nodded, reaching down to spread herself. His eyes followed her.

“Here,” she moaned slightly. “I need someone to help.”

He stared at her for a minute and she bit her lip, trying to act innocent. Slowly he stood and she watched him, pretending to be the needy virgin. He went for his belt and she licked her lips.

“This what you want?” he said as he pulled his cock out and she stared. He was huge. She couldn’t disguise her shock and he scoffed. “Naked girl?”

“Yes,” she moaned, moving to get on her hands and knees.

“Then come here,” he said. “And I’ll solve the ache you have.”

Oh, by the gods, she knew he probably would.


	14. Deep Dreams (F!DB, Talvas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: The F!DB is run down and exhausted after a hard day and falls asleep on someone's shoulder I.E. their head resting on their shoulder while they sleep. No preference if who they fall asleep on is someone they're engaged with or just friends. 
> 
> Not going to lie, I really liked the thought of Pema getting together permanently with Talvas. Harbinger and Master Wizard ftw. But, as you know, I don't always follow up with things. But if you want a conclusion for Pema, she totally defeats Miraak, shags Talvas again and then stays with him because he's adorable.

“…And that is why the Dwemer are actually stupider than people think,” Neloth finished making her look to him, exhausted. “Of course, try telling that to Divayth Fyr. He’ll have none of it which makes me question his intelligence.”

“Neloth,” Pema said as she walked up the ashen hills, the Telvanni mushrooms beginning to get larger on the path. “I don’t care.”

He looked back at her, annoyed. “Hmph. You know, if you want to defeat Miraak-”

“I don’t need to hear about the dwemer to do it,” she cut in and he furrowed his brows.

“-You are going to need some brains, I was going to say. Judging by how unimpressed you were at Nchardak, I’d say the likelihood of Miraak succeeding in his plans is absolute. You missed out on some of the most fascinating constructs and magical traps all because you’re more content on beating things to death like a stupid Nord.” He began making her roll her eyes. She was tired and not in the mood to hear it. “Here’s a free tip from me, something you should be honored to get. Use your head, not your hulking body. It will get you farther in life.”

“Neloth,” she said, her beast blood rumbling under her veins. “Here’s some advice from me. If you don’t shut up, I will shout you off this island. Understand?”

He snorted, looking back to her. “I can levitate, my dear.”

“Levitate off a cliff,” she said, marching past him and he scoffed and she made her way back to the Telvanni tower, her feet and eyes heavy from the amount of work she did that day. She took the portal first, moving to a table to dump off the damn junk Neloth wanted her to carry and when he arrived she moved to a chair by a stack of crates.

“Talvas!” Neloth yelled making her wince as her head began to throb. “We have work to do! Go get Varona! I want some tea!”

His poor assistant emerged from the Staff Enchantment room, a broom in his hand and he sighed but did as he was instructed. Pema stayed in her seat, pulling out the ancient black book from her back and she looked at the cover with it’s twisted carvings of Hermaeus. Her fingers lingered over it, a strange feeling inside her and she sighed, slumping back. 

She was tired. Gods, she was tired. Tired of listening to Neloth, who she now recognized was possibly insane. Tired of her ass getting slapped by tentacles that did not seem tempted to do more than just annoy her. Tired of seekers and lurkers and stacks of books and winding corridors. When she became Harbinger, it had not nearly been as exhausting as one trek through a Dwemer ruin followed by meeting a daedric lord who she was not impressed with. In fact, her jobs in Skyrim seemed so simple at that moment and she sighed, closing her eyes, finally unable to hold back her want to sleep.

Eventually, she had to go to the Skaal but she really didn’t want to. They were her friends and she was conflicted on what she had been told to do. She drifted off to the thought, her head snapping awake twice making her jerk but she eventually settled in to her sleep. A dark, deep sleep that seemed more endless than the plane Hermaeus owned.

She was woken by Talvas, the young assistant frowning at her as her eyes struggled to focus.

“Talvas,” she said groggily and he gave her a shy smile. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Well, I mean, not with me. But you look really worn down, you know.” He said sympathetically making her flush a bit. “Do you want to borrow a bed?”

She gave him a weary smile. “I’d love to,” she said. “But I doubt I can get up.”

He frowned, looking her over before he held out his hand and she stared at it. “I-I can help…” he said, flushing and she looked to him. “H-Help you get up.”

That made her smile. “You’re so sweet, Talvas,” she said and he turned red making her wearily giggle. She really did like the boy. She took his warm hand, his grip strong despite how lithe he was and she let her knapsack and book drop to the floor as he helped her stand. She swayed a bit making him tense before she fell against him, her head hitting his shoulder making him squawk.

He smelled nice. Like lavender sprigs. She inhaled against his neck, nuzzling it for a second making him stiffen and her arms wrapped around him.

“P-Pema,” he said but she barely heard him. She was falling back into her dreams.

“Talvas,” she finally said, hugging his body tight making him squirm. “You smell like the plains of Whiterun.”

“…T-Thanks?” he said confused but she didn’t answer back. She already was embracing the sleep that had been tugging at her, her eyes falling down again. Maybe if she slept forever, Miraak would go away. Then Solstheim and the Skaal would be alright and everything would be okay.

It was a naive thought but it made her snuggle against the poor apprentice, looking for comfort and the poor boy finally couldn’t hold her weight and fell back, his rear hitting the ground first. She jerked awake for a second before she buried herself against him, using him as a pillow.

“P-Pema?” Talvas said and she didn’t respond, her weary body completely unconscious. “Pema?”

Yes, he smelled like Whiterun, her adopted home which she was beginning to miss. She missed changing and running free like the birds in the sky, her beast blood constantly driving her to seek better challenges and more strength. She wanted to go back and run with Aela and Farkas and Vilkas and see Kodlak again and even get chewed out by Skjor. But times had changed and her and Aela were the only ones left. And even then, she was half a world away chasing down a rogue dragonborn while fighting off bandits, spriggons, daedric spawn, and ash monsters.

She curled against her warm pillow, clutching him tight for a moment as she felt his chest rise. She just wanted to go back to Whiterun and get drunk and ride men and be the stupid nineteen year old she should be. Not deal with daedra and dragonborns and wizards who never seemed to shut up.

The thought drew her back and she opened her eyes slightly, feeling Talvas’ head beat in his chest. Sweet Talvas who asked to help her and never seemed unhappy to see her.

“Talvas?” she said groggily and he shifted.

“Huh? Pema? Are you alright?”

She ignored his question. “Promise me something?”

“U-Uh, sure.”

“Never change,” she said, closing her eyes again as she inhaled his scent and he shifted a bit in confusion.

“I… won’t?” he said, obviously lost on what she meant but she didn’t care. As long as he promised. She snuggled against him, her mind dropping off and she went unconscious as she finally slept. Tomorrow, she would go to the Skaal. Whether she wanted to or not.


	15. Fragile (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: So that post from earlier got me thinking about some Skyrim NPC's that I think are seriously sweet/ attractive but are underloved. Mainly Gwilin and Ulundil. Both of them are such sweethearts and have a really refreshing outlook on life in the middle of all the "death or sovngarde!" Nonsense. So really, I just want fills with these two where they get some love. (And yes I'm aware Ulundil has a wife. But I always kind of felt bad for him anyway because all she ever does is gripe about him liking horses and occasionally calls him boring) In any case! Fills could include both these guys (maybe put them together for some crack?) Or you can pair them with another NPC or an OC. Or maybe you can get me to like Arivanya. Honestly as long as it includes one or both of these two I will be happy.
> 
> This is starting off my F!DB named Eloine. Adorable, sweet, and stupid as a rock. No wonder she's in the Companions, eh? Eh? Okay, I shouldn't be so hard on her since I do torture her a lot. She's meant as the dragonborn in my main universe that holds Kjersti so she was vital to me at some point. I just fell out of writing her due to how I wasn't in the mood to keep studying torture methods of medieval times. Hint hint.

“Hello! Hello!” a feminine voice called from outside and Ulundil stopped eating his bread, looking to the front door curiously. Arivanya sighed from across the table and grabbed another sweet roll, slicing it in two.

“Ulundil, eat.”

He frowned, eyes still on the door. “Honey, forgive me, but does that sound like someone’s at the door?”

“No,” she grumbled as she began eating her sweet roll, ignoring the calls which were growing more and more distant. “It’s probably some poor traveler looking for a guard. Don’t get involved.”

He pursed his lips as he contemplated his wife’s command before he was up, fetching his coat. Arivanya gave him a sour look. “If you go out there and catch an illness, I won’t tend to you.”

He smiled at her. “Come now, my sweet. What sort of mer would we be if we didn’t help out anyone who came by? Why, we’d be no better than some of our cousins who live at the Embassy!” he commented and she said nothing but he could see some guilt within her. “I’ll just be a moment, dear. If it is a traveler looking for a guard, I’ll just direct them to one and be back before you know!”

“Whatever,” she sighed, taking his half of the sweet roll and he pulled on a coat, quickly fastening a hood over his head as he could hear the wind from under the door and he stepped outside into a harsh blizzard, the wind rushing past him making his wife scream. He closed the door, inhaling the sharp, frozen air.

“Sorry, my love!” he called and he heard her yell a curse which he chuckled at. He would make it up to her later, bringing such bitter winds into their home but for now he sought out the voice he heard earlier.

“Hello!?” he called into the storm and he had to blink back tears as the snowflakes were blown into his face. His first thought went to his horses and he quickly descended his steps, making his way to the stables to see his poor animals. They had their backs turned to the wind, heads hung low and he quickly fetched their woven blankets, throwing one over the shivering mare and fastening it to her legs. The wind hit him again, chilling him to the bone but he knew he was better off than most.

He had furs protecting him, a lot more than some had and he silently prayed to all nine divines to help anyone caught in the storm. It was only after he finished did he hear a horse whinny. It was not from one of his.

“Hello!?” he shouted again, patting his mare before moving out towards the nearly snow-covered road. He stumbled in a snowdrift but righted himself before he took a tumble. The whinny came closer and he wished he brought a torch so he could see. The blizzard was making the sky darker than it should for the time it was and he worried for the mysterious traveler might become lost. He had seen more than one body in the waters before Windhelm and it pained him every time he did. “He-e-ll-o-o-o!”

“Hello!?” a voice called back and he felt his heart swell. They could hear him! He made his way onto the road, slipping on the stones but as he traveled down it, he could see a shape coming towards him. It was a horse and a person at its side.

“Hello! Traveler! Are you well!?” he yelled into the wind and the figure came closer revealing themselves in a long, heavy cloak that dragged upon the ground, a giant sword at their back. He made his way to them, taking the reins so he could lead the horse and the traveler coughed, taking his arm.

“Bless you!” a female voice cried and he only nodded before drawing them to his stables, thankful that Alfarinn was not in his carriage outside in the terrible weather. He used his stable to house the cloaked traveler’s horse, giving it one of his blankets which he could feel it appreciated before he led the girl to his home.

The door whipped open and his wife screamed again. “Shut the door! Shut the door!”

The traveler went in first and he closed the door behind her, panting as he did. His nose and cheeks were burning from the cold but he was thankful he had helped a soul in such weather. He undid his hat, pulling the strings with shaking fingers before removing his jacket and the traveler shed her coat, breathing out as she did.

Ulundil found himself staring at her. It was a small Nord. He stared at the massive weapon she placed down by a chair and he wondered how on earth she could shoulder such a thing. It was larger than her!

The young girl turned to him, her white cheeks blazing, nose wet but her eyes were wide and kind and she gave him a large smile, several teeth showing as she did. “Thank you so much, mister! I was so worried about Elka in this storm but you saved her!”

He smiled back, the feeling to his ears coming back making him reach up and rub them. “Not a problem, young lady. But who is Elka?”

“My horse!” she beamed. He found himself laughing. It was rare to hear of such kindness towards the beasts that he felt himself warming up to her immediately. Arivanya groaned from the hearth and stirred the pot of simmering stew before she grabbed her own coat. Ulundil stared.

“Honey?”

“I’m going to the market,” she muttered. “I’m not sitting here listening about your beasts…”

“But it’s dark. And wretched out,” he tried but she ignored him, grabbing her coat. The traveler frowned and suddenly seemed remorseful.

“I’m sorry,” she begged. “I didn’t mean to just intrude in here! Let me go instead. This is Windhelm, right? I can go to the gates. I don’t think they’ll kill me…”

Both turned to stare at her before Arivanya asked before he could even comprehend such a thing. “Why would they kill you? Are you a criminal!? Ulundil, you brought a criminal in here?! What is wrong with you!”

He opened his mouth in shock. This girl didn’t seem like such a thing and he could tell when she stared waving her arms looking at his wife in desperation.

“I’m not a criminal! I’m not! I hate them! They’re bad!” she babbled. “I’m in the Legion! Stormcloaks don’t like us!”

“That’s even worse!” she spat and the girl covered her mouth, looking even worse. He finally caught up and turned to his wife, trying to soothe her.

“Arivanya, please. Don’t judge so harshly! After all, the Divines-”

“I don’t care, Ulundil! I’m going! And that Imperial better be gone when I get back!” she slammed the door behind her, snowflakes spinning about the room as she did and Ulundil sighed and turned back to the girl who looked miserable. She sniffed and he found himself going to her, pulling out a handkerchief.

“No, no, don’t be upset. My wife is just very outspoken. She means no harm, really. She’s a really sweet and wonderful woman once you get to know her.”

“I didn’t mean no trouble,” she muttered, taking his token and he shushed her.

“Don’t be silly! The weather outside is terrible right now and you’ll catch your death in such conditions! Even as a Nord! Here, warm yourself by the fire,” he ushered her over and he gathered what meagre scraps of food he could, offering them but she refused. She went to her cloak, pulling out a knapsack and she opened it, showing him it was bursting with food. He stared at it.

“Do you want some?” she asked and he felt himself flush. “I didn’t steal it, honest. I’m with the Companions and they always put too much in my pack.”

He patted her head, rustling the blonde locks. “No, dear. That’s alright-”

“It ain’t no trouble! I should pay you back for your kindness anyways!” she started and she pulled out loaves of bread, a cheese wheel which looked as if it had a rough journey and a few leeks before she grabbed a coin purse. She held it up to him and he stared at her. “Here! For you! For helping me!”

“I can’t…”

“It ain’t no trouble!” she said again. “I get a lot of loose gold for helping people!”

He stared at her and she looked a bit confused before she lowered her hand and walked to his table, dumping her sack out on it. His voice finally came to him.

“What’s… your name?”

The girl turned around, sniffing as she did and she did up her knapsack, throwing it back against the heavy cloak. “Eloine.”

“Eloine?”

She nodded. “Eloine. I’m the youngest of three. Daddy raised me to be a soldier!” she smiled and she raised her arms, flexing them to show off her strength. He merely stared at her; by the gods, Nords were odd but he had come to expect this after living near Windhelm and gave her an encouraging smile. She beamed back at him. “Though, I don’t think Daddy could tell I was the dragonborn…”

His smile disappeared. “I’m sorry?”

“Dragonborn,” the girl repeated, lowering her arms and she wiped her nose on her fur-covered arm. “I’m the dragonborn.”

He had to sit down. It was a little too much for him. He had went out and rescued a traveler not minutes ago and now she was telling him she was an Imperial, giving him more food than he could afford in a month, and she was also the dragonborn. He rubbed at his temples. Were the gods making fun of him? Laughing at his kind heart?

She frowned and stepped towards him. “Are you alright, mister? Do you need some healing?”

“I’m fine, young… um, Eloine,” he assured her. “This is all just a bit… surreal.”

“Surreal?” she said the word but it was obvious it did not mean anything to her. She continued to stand next to him, watching as he slowly recovered mentally from the onslaught of information and he found himself looking at her.

“Why would the Imperial dragonborn come to Windhelm?” he asked and she bit her lip.

She hesitated before turning her body, showing an axe strapped to her side. It glowed for a second and he frowned, feeling the magic radiate off of it and she moved back so she could stare at him. “There’s… going to be a war.”

He stiffened.

“I came… to see Jarl Ulfric. To give him this axe and then see how he responds. Jarl Balgruuf…. Um, the Jarl of Whiterun told me to. If Ulfric doesn’t take it, then… Whiterun will be at war.”

Ulundil exhaled as he stared at her. She bit her lip more and stared at her feet.

“I don’t want a war but I was told war is… is… um. It’s in… every able? Um,” she paused, looking for the word and he found himself watching her, waiting before she finally sighed. “It’s always going to happen.”

He let out a sigh. “Inevitable.”

“Yes!” she cried making him jump a little. “That’s what they said! In every table!”

He gaped at her before he slowly found himself smiling, her naivety refreshing to hear. He looked to the food on the table, the coin purse full of money he didn’t feel right accepting and she moved, sitting across from him, adjusting a strap on her armor as she did. He just now focused on the details and wondered why she was wearing such bright, heavy silver armor as opposed to Imperial wear. He thought of the Stormcloaks and realized it might have been for the better, her not to dress in such a way.

“I’m sorry,” she said and he met her eyes. “I didn’t mean to cause such trouble. With your wife and telling you there’s going to be a war.”

He found himself shaking his head. “No, it is alright. I find myself fearing more for you. I take it you will have to engage in this war?”

She nodded.

“May the gods watch over you, Dragonborn.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, mister!” she said before she adjusted her armor, squeezing her fingers and she rose with a sigh. “I suppose I’ll go to see Ulfric. I can move my hands now and shouldn’t put this off any longer.”

Ulundril frowned at her. “Already? I just brought you in! Please, stay a while! Warm up! And your food, it’s very generous but-” 

She waved him off and went to grab her cloak, pulling it over her shoulders before she brought her great sword up onto her back. She made it seem effortless but he could feel the weight from watching her. “Don’t worry, mister. Like I said, the Companions pack a lot for me. I don’t even really like cheese,” she pointed to the wheel of it on his table and he felt more guilt enter him. “Besides, it will be nice to see Ulfric again.”

His eyebrows rose. “You know our Jarl?”

She shrugged as she walked to the door. “I don’t know if he remembers me. Helgen was a while ago…”

“H-Helgen!?”

She nodded, not fazed by his panic. “Ulfric was going to have his head cut off there and I was a prisoner with him. I don’t think he’ll remember me but I still remember him,” she frowned after she spoke. “But… he did see me on the road near Dawnstar. And a couple other places… Actually, maybe he will remember me.” She shifted her pack on her shoulder. “This may become weird…”

Ulundil only kept staring at her. It was like a snow bear had wandered into his home and started singing songs while dancing and playing a lute. He was dumbstruck by the girl. She only turned and gave him a wave as she grabbed the handle to the front door.

“Well, thank you! I’ll come back for Elka later! Thank you mister!”

“I… I….”

She opened the door, a burst of wind sending her cloak to billow behind her before she exited and was gone. He stared at the blank wall, still unable to speak. And he didn’t seem to get his voice back until Arivanya stepped into their home, shivering as she slammed the door.

“Ulundil,” she said in a stern voice as she pulled off her warm clothes. “I saw that girl heading towards the Palace. You know anything about that?”

He stared at his dear wife. “Dragonborn.”

“Pardon?”

“T-The dragonborn. She was the dragonborn!” he began to babble. “She… she just came and dumped food for us and coin and told me she was going to start a war between Ulfric and Whiterun and she.. she knows Ulfric! She knows the Jarl as if they were personal!”

His wife gave him a strange look as she hung up her clothes. “Ulundil, have you been drinking? That short little Nord is not the dragonborn!”

He shook his head. “She is with the Companions. She’s the dragonborn and with the Companions and an Imperial!”

Arivanya finally came over, her hand touching his head for a moment before she took her seat across from him, looking at the food on the table. She picked up the wheel of cheese and dropped it, unimpressed. Ulundil held his head, trying to comprehend what had happened as they sat in silence, the wind still whistling from under the door.

Arivanya spoke. “Ulfric is going to attack Whiterun?”

He looked to her, to her calm expression and he nodded, feeling sweat on his neck, fear of war suddenly washing over him. All these people fighting, hurting each other and possibly civilians. What would become of them? Of the cities they attacked? Of the horses and women and children?

“We should move.”

He stared at her and she reached over and took the coin bag, opening it up to see how much was inside before she shut it and put it on the table. “Ulundil.”

He shook his head.

“We need to get out.”


	16. Threshold (F!DB/Lorcalin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I want to see the Dragonborn (either gender) get completely dommed by one of the Thalmor, to the point that the Dragonborn becomes their loyal servant and helps them achieve their goals in Skyrim.
> 
> If this reads awkwardly, that's because this was - get this - my first heterosexual smut fill in over three years. Yeah. And I'm a woman. I was writing slash for so long I forgot how to write Het. That's when you know it's time to get off the internet for a while. Anyways, Eloine and Lorcalin smut. Full of Thalmor psychological abuse and manipulation. I still can't decide if he actually liked her or not.

He frowned as they came down the hill from Fellglow Keep, the blood of necromancers stained on their boots and his magic exhausted from the amount he had to use. Behind him the dragonborn walked, struggling with the laces on her shoes and he found himself sighing. He honestly didn’t know why he tagged along with her but seeing her in action was something to note. Elenwen would be getting a report from him soon on the dragonborn’s brutality, how they needed to get her to use it just for them.

He came down into the plains, turning to see the girl lagging behind and he waited until she caught up, her hopping on one foot before she finally sat down and took off her boot. Inside was a small rock and she began shaking it making him roll his eyes. “When did you get that?”

“Don’t know,” she admitted and he sighed.

He could see Dragonsreach from where they were, behind them the mountains still illuminated by the light and he gauged it was going to be about an hour to walk across the plains back to the gates of Whiterun. It was not far but they were isolated on the plains meaning it would be quiet as they went back. He looked to Eloine who was putting her boot back on, how small she was and he found himself staring. She wasn’t bad for a human but her lack of intelligence really was a turn off.

Then again, they were alone for once, her stupid nattering housecarl was not there to stop him, and it was the perfect chance to make sure she bent only to him; he came up beside her, looming over her until she looked up.

“Lorcalin?”

“My dear…” he sighed. “Take off your armor.” She stared at him, confused and he found himself rubbing his temples. “Just do it.”

“Okay,” she hesitated but did as he asked. The clasps were undone, the straps pulled and she hauled the heavy armor off, setting it down before her. She stood in her boots and gauntlets, no bindings over her breasts and only a thin loincloth on and he rose a brow at her. She frowned and looked down at herself not understanding.

“You do not wear bindings?” he asked and she shook her head.

“It hurts to breathe if I do,” she stated, her chest rising and falling and he stared at her, understanding now where all the sweetrolls that she ate went. Her chest was certainly unlike a mer woman’s. She was a little round, he could see deposits around her stomach and hips but she wasn’t repulsive. He stepped towards her, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“My little bird,” he mused, stroking her cheek and she began to blush a bit. “How innocent you are.”

She tilted her head, confused and he chuckled before leaning down, pushing her chin up so he could kiss her. It took her off guard, her little body stiffening but he continued, trying to be gentle. He couldn’t afford to muck this up. When he withdrew she was flushing, her hand fidgeting nervously and he frowned. “Something wrong, my pet?”

She let out a small pant. “What… was that?”

He stared at her. Surely she was joking. “I kissed you,” he stated in a plain voice. “Have you never been kissed before?”

She shook her head and he sighed, straightening. How delightful. “Give me your bag,” he demanded and she did so. He looked through the potions, finding none that really could help and had to settle on three bottles that restored ones stamina. The liquid was thicker than the Magicka and Health but not by much but it would have to do.

He set them aside and knelt before her, eyes on her breasts. “Well… I suppose this will all be new for you,” he commented and she fidgeted a bit, unsure of what he was going to do when he reached down and pulled at the strings to her undergarments. Her hands immediately flew to catch them, her eyes wide.

“Lorcalin!”

“Master,” he cut in making her stop. “Call me master, little bird.”

“M-Master,” she said without hesitation. “You shouldn’t…. that’s…”

“What?” he asked, irritated and she blushed, holding the strings tight before leaning down so she could whisper into his ear.

“It’s dirty there…”

“Oh divines,” he muttered, leaning back to look at her. Her face was red and he sighed. “Eloine, has anyone ever told you about sex?”

She bit her lip at his words. “…Y-Yes.”

“What did they say?”

She fidgeted even more. “I shouldn’t have it?”

He nearly laughed. “Who said that?”

“Aela,” she muttered. “She asked me before if I had ever done things… and I said no. And she said it was for the best, I shouldn’t have it anyways. I didn’t know what she was talking about…” She began to babble and Lorcalin found himself scoffing, waving a hand at her to shut her up. “W-Why? A-Are we…?”

“No,” he lied as he slapped her hand away, pulling her loincloth off. “We’re not doing anything like that. I am just going to reward you for being a good girl to the Thalmor.”

“O-Oh?” she seemed confused and excited and he looked between her legs, staring at how it seemed the fat had added to her down there. He reached up, a finger touching her and she clamped her legs together, flushing a bright pink. “Lor-! Master! D-Don’t! You shouldn’t!”

“Relax, my little bird,” he said, forcing her legs to stop gripping his hand so tight. “It’s fine. This is all part of the reward.”

“B-But-!”

“Eloine,” he commanded and she ceased her complaints but her expression remained worried. He sighed, withdrawing his hand and he had to pull off his glove, reaching back to gauge how she was. Warm, tight, and not remotely ready; he would change that. He withdrew, pulling off his other glove and rolling up his sleeves before forcing her legs to open more. She began to shake as he came near, eyeing her as he shifted on his knees and he studied her sex.

Other than her labia being a bit more fatty than he was used to, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He spread her, checking, the slightest touch making her shake and he began to question if he could even fit. He drew back, looking to her stomach and silently he knew he couldn’t possibly fit all of himself inside her. She was short in all accounts, from her legs to her waist and he gauged it probably extended to her insides as well.

Still, he would be her first and the thought made him sport a wicked grin. He wished her stupid housecarl had come to witness him breaking her, watch her ride on his dick. It would have been satisfying to see her reaction to how the girl conformed to the Thalmor. Nevertheless he stood up, brushing hairs from the flushed girl’s face and he easily picked her up, ignoring her squawk so her could hold her, her legs moving to wrap around him. He gave her a kiss and she flushed.

“My dear little bird,” he cooed making her bit her lip. “You need to relax. I am giving you a reward, my dear. You deserve it.”

“I’ve… never had a reward like this…” she said in a shaky voice. He smiled and pressed his lips against hers again, faking affection.

“No, I suppose not. The Thalmor, though, know how to treat one of their own. And for a good girl such as yourself, you only deserve the best,” he praised making her smile and relax a bit in his arms. He knelt, holding her as he did and he angled her so her upper back touched the earth, her shoulders against it but her lower torso being raised. She shifted, confused, her legs not sure on what to do and he simply slung them over his shoulders, looking down at her sex before him.

He looked up for a moment, muttering for the divines to forgive him for touching such a lower creature before he went down, drawing a lazy, slow lick across her pussy. She went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. “Relax, my little rabbit.”

She bit her lip, giving him a nod but he could tell she was confused which he shrugged off. He did it again, a bit more slowly and when she let out a breath, her legs shifting on his shoulder he rubbed her back, trying to make her less tense. It wouldn’t benefit him if she was. He maintained eye contact as he licked her a few more times, assuring her it was alright and she finally began to loosen. He spread her legs a bit more, licking between her folds and he could taste her, how her body knew how to respond.

Thank the gods that wasn’t on the same wavelength as her empty head. He adjusted her, her legs slipping off his shoulders to bend back towards her head and he was given more area to play with, his lazy licking seeming to do the job. He teased at the crown of her clit, coaxing at it to come out and below him she let out a soft moan. She covered her mouth, her eyes closed in embarrassment and he felt a bit of satisfaction at her expression how she was still trying to understand what she was feeling.

He gave her a wet lick, dragging his tongue past her clit into her dark pubic hairs and she giggled a bit, her hips moving. 

“Good girl,” he commented and the blush on her cheeks grew. He adjusted her again so he could get a hand up, his fingers rubbing between her folds with his tongue and he slowly could feel her warmth almost becoming more intense, his saliva not the only fluid now. He lapped at her, his tongue moving in a circle as his fingers pressed her virgin opening and she jerked, her breath coming out in a small cry. 

“Master!”

He smiled to himself but continued. She needed to be practically soaked, something the stupid potions could help with and he momentarily left her to grab one, uncorking the bottle and she whimpered from her position on the grass. “Don’t worry, my pet. Just need some help...”

She nodded and he could only smirk. Such a stupid girl. He tossed the cork away, coating his fingers with a bit of the fluid and he moved back into position, angling her up again so he could tease her again. He took the bottle, pouring a bit of it against her sex and she shivered, shifting below as he did. He rubbed the fluid in, kissing her thigh. “I know it’s cold, just relax.”

“It’s sticky,” she complained and he smiled down at her.

“It’s supposed to be,” he said as the slick additional liquid helped his fingers more. She was becoming looser, her body not resisting as it had but he still didn’t want to test it just in case she tore and he would have to deal with it. He leaned back down, still teasing her hiding clit with his tongue and his fingers began to rub her opening when she jerked. He looked down at her, at her closed eyes and finger being bit and he smirked, licking her finally protruding clit. She bucked, violently, crying out as she did and he had to steady her, surprised at her reaction. Seemed she was more sensitive than he gave her credit for.

“Alright, calm down,” he soothed and she groaned, her fingers pulling at the grass around her. “Looks like you’re not ready for that.”

“M-Master,” she begged and he had to admit he felt himself throb under his robes. Damned girl. He grabbed her hips, forcing them back up and he leaned over her, focusing on tonguing her insides instead. His tongue got in and he flicked it around, testing the waters and she whined from below, tearing the stalks of grass around her letting him know he was on the right track. His fingers went to teasing the skin around her clit, putting pressure anywhere but on it and he could feel her starting to respond again, aching.

He gave her a long, wet lick to reward her and she arched her back, panting as she did. “M-Master, I f-feel dirty…” she complained and he scowled at her as he teased her opening. “S-Something is in my stomach…”

“Your stomach?” he questioned and she nodded, turning bright. He looked at her, knowing she was too stupid to probably comprehend what he was doing but he had to ask. “Describe it.”

“E-Eh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me what it feels like.”

She bit her lip. “L-Like… I have…” she flushed. “Like dragon fire…”

He stared at her then went back down. So she could feel the starting of an orgasm. Virgins… No stamina whatsoever. He removed his fingers, only using his tongue and the loss of the extra stimulation was felt by her, her body shifting more now trying to take his tongue in. He eventually pulled that away, having had enough of her pussy against his lips and he took to gently teasing her with a single finger, running it up and down her folds. She whined. “Mas-s-ster…”

“I dictate what I’ll do,” he reminded her as he swirled a finger around near her clit. “Since you’re such a dirty girl.”

She flushed at his words. “I-I’m sorry!”

He grinned. “As you should be,” he remarked, letting her body fall back against the earth as he leaned down to kiss her. She whimpered against his tongue and he made sure she tasted herself on his lips. “What should I do with such a naughty thing?”

“I’ll be good!” she protested, not understanding how teasing in bed went and he chuckled, his finger still rubbing her folds.

“Oh, you will be when I’m through. But right now…” he pressed his lips against hers. “Tell me what you’ll do for me about this? How lewd you’re being.”

She squirmed, her cheeks blazing and her eyes confused and she clung to him, nuzzling his neck. “I-I’ll be good, Master! I promise! F-For the Thalmor, like you said…”

The thought drove a shiver down his own spine and he found himself licking his lips. “And how, little bird? How will you be good for us Thalmor who protect you and help you?”

She bucked against his finger which was now pushing against her entrance, the tip going in. “I-I’ll d-do anything…” she begged – gods she begged. “Please, Lorcalin, I’ll be a good girl!”

He hated her, he really did, how she was so stupidly innocent and how he wanted to tear that from her, to fuck her damned idiotic brains out. He pulled away, undoing the belt to his black trousers under his robes and they were pushed down enough to get himself free. He groaned when he did, not realizing how uncomfortable it had been and he grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. “Suck it, Eloine.”

She let out a breath, confused and he fisted her hair. “Put your mouth on me and suck.”

She did so without a complaint, her swollen lips touching his cock and he had to put a hand to his forehead to steady himself, her sweet, innocent lips meekly running down his shaft. She didn’t understand what to do and he reached down, guiding her. “Suck, my little bird. Like you would your fingers after eating a sweetroll.”

She understood the concept and moved her head down his length a bit, swallowing against him. He winced, gripping her hair. “No teeth!”

She made a muffled noise but she didn’t grip him and he eased her head up, listening to the wet pop as she pulled off. “M-Master?”

He steadied himself again. “Just… do that, my pet. Alright? Like a good girl for the Thalmor.”

She nodded and went back down, swallowing what she could and he bent over, his hand moving down her back as he did. He didn’t know if it was from her begging or the fact she her mouth was small and that over his cock felt terrific but he groaned, his ears feeling hot and he pushed her down more, indicating the pace she should take. She seemed to get it, her simple bobs enough and he reached between her own legs and began fingering her, his one digit slipping in easily. She tensed when he did, pulling off to gasp but he pushed her back on, hissing and she continued without a complaint.

Her legs spread, allowing him more access and looked at her, their odd position of her kneeling before him sucking him off while he loomed over her, fingering her. If anyone were to come upon them it would simply look as if he was curled up on the ground and he sighed, continuing his ministrations, her wetness now leaking down his finger.

He grabbed the stamina potion, adding more to his hands and he pushed two into her making her hum against his cock. He groaned, hating her even more and it took a considerable effort not to thrust into her mouth. He knew what she was taking in was possibly all she could fit and he started prepping with more effort, his throbbing cock wanting inside her.

Her own sex seemed to pulse against his two fingers, her hips meek as they timidly shifted and thrust and he curled them inside, feeling her walls, searching for the sweet spot when she pulled off his cock. “M-Master? Something’s coming out!”

He stopped, frowning at her words. “What do you mean?”

“Something salty!” she said from below and he flushed.

“That’s…” Gods, what could he even say. “Fine. It’s normal.”

He felt her tongue against his slit and he tensed considerably. “It’s bitter!”

He was going to kill her, goddammit. He withdrew to lean up, looking down at her and she licked her lips, her eyes bright as they met his. He forced her back down on his cock, controlling her motions for a second just to feel a bit of control over her. She let him without a struggle and he pulled away from her, hitting her lips with the head of his cock. “Lick.”

She licked, her tongue sloppy against him, a bit of saliva forming at the corners of her mouth but he didn’t care. It seemed almost more deprived and lewd that way. He moved her up, allowing her to once again lick the tip and he held her steady as he gripped himself. He needed to come and her inexperience wasn’t going to get him there. “Open your mouth.”

She did and he began furiously jerking off, looking around just in case anyone was near before he focused back on her. She was waiting, patient, her tongue out and her small mouth open and he closed his eyes, cursing everything about the damned world before he thought of how it was going to feel pounding her little body. He wouldn’t even fit, gods above, she was so small and the thought of how tight that was going to feel sent him over the edge. He forced her to drink it, her movements sloppy as she tried to catch it but what didn’t go on her mouth dripped down to her chin and chest, his seed marking her body.

He let go of her head, his hands shaking as he did and she slowly leaned up, struggling as she swallowed. She licked at what she had missed, the white sticky mess starting to coat her fingers as she wiped at them and he lost it, roughly kissing her, tasting himself – gods above what was wrong with him – and she moaned against him.

When he pulled away she let out a pant, her eyes glazing over. “M-Master…”

He kissed her again, tilting her chin up as he did just to get that bit of a power trip. He released her and tossed her down on the grass, grabbing the potion bottles to uncork them and he set to work, more determined now so he could know if what he imagined felt better. He poured one against her, trying hard not to rush as he fingered her but how wet she was and tight only drove him further and she began whining from below, calling his title.

He emptied a bottle on himself and made sure he was dripping. “Spread your legs, girl.”

She obeyed, panting as she did and he lined himself up, using the last bottle to make sure they were covered even more. He spread her folds, rubbed her thighs and began pushing, her resistance against him painful. “E-Eloine, relax.”

She let out a heated breath, shaking as she did. “O-Okay….”

He rubbed her thighs in encouragement. “It’s alright, my dear. This is your reward for being a good girl, alright?”

She smiled, trying hard to keep relaxed but he knew he was going to come across more resistance. He pushed, the head of his cock settling in and he groaned as she sporadically clenched, his intrusion foreign to her body. Little by little he went, the liquid from the potions helping and he slid down as much as he could, watching her as she did. She was trying to maintain a calm disposition but the sensations were obviously confusing her. She looked in pain, confused, as if she had been slapped but it would change to a glossy look the more he went in as if she was realizing how much she was being filled. She bit her lip, whimpered like a dog, her legs shook and her fingers dug into the earth until he found himself at an end.

He couldn’t go further and she looked as if he had already fucked her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes distant. He moved making her jerk, a whimper escaping her throat and she clenched down making him dig his nails into her skin painfully. Gods above she was tight.

He exhaled, remaining still and in the distance he heard an animal calling, the wind blowing through the grass as the sun started moving down. He looked at her, the dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun, a member of the Companions and now the girl whose virginity he had now claimed and he found himself smirking, reaching down to touch her face. She nuzzled his palm, panting. “Good… girl.”

“Lorcalin…”

He didn’t correct her and took to leaning over her, bracing himself on either side of her head, his hips eager to move and fuck the damned girl into servitude. “Keep relaxed.”

He still had a fair bit of himself not within her but that was the price to pay for fucking a human. He moved back, sliding out of her and she reached up to grab his arms as he did, not liking the motion which made him smile. When he pushed back down, gently, trying to break through her resistance and she let out a cry when the head of his cock hit the opening of her womb. He readjusted and did it again, still feeling her tense.

“I said relax,” he reminded her, her body shaking and she nodded, trying to accommodate his request as he thrust in again. Slowly she was breaking, her discomfort melting away and he slowly drove into her, calm as he did but he could feel himself wanting to just pound her into the dirt. The more he thrust, the better she became and finally he was able to maintain and shallow, easy rhythm to which she liked. Her legs moved oddly behind him and he adjusted them to being wrapped around his waist, her forehead against his chest and her fingers gripping his robes.

He simply looked to the distance at the landscape, focusing on the feelings of fucking a girl’s pussy after such a long time and he licked his lips as her tight walls still clenched against him making him groan and fight for control. She was panting below, her body still trying to figure out what was happening and she let out a small moan. “M-Master?”

“H-Hn?”

“I-Is this my reward?” she asked, her voice shaking as he thrust and he looked down at her from between his arms, her blue eyes locking with his and he nodded.

“Yes, my little bird,” he breathed out. “This is your reward for being a good girl.”

She let out another pant. “I like it…”

He increased the speed of his thrusts at her words, licking his lips as he did and he found himself peering at her again. “Eloine?” She looked up. “This is a reward only the Thalmor are to give you, understand? D-Do not ask of this from others.”

She nodded, biting her lip as he rolled his hips for a second feeling her damned tight pussy clench around him. “W-Will… all… the Thalmor… reward me?”

He flushed at the thought and looked away. He had no idea what his colleagues would say if the damned Nord Dragonborn came up and asked for a reward but somehow it made him chuckle. She could get herself in a lot of trouble asking such a thing but he knew some would relent just as he did. “Yes, my little bird. W-We will all make sure…” she clenched again and he groaned. “Y-You are taken care of.”

She panted harder from below him and he decided to stop their innocent little humping. He moved up, looming over her and he grabbed her hands, pinning them to her sides. She looked to him, confused, her eyes moving over his and he avoided them, staring at a point in the distance. He drew back, holding it for a minute before he slammed down into her and she let out a scream. He shivered at it, loving the sound and he did it again, her cry louder but not as satisfying as the first.

He simply fucked without a thought, her squirming and crying out only making it better. She thrust back, much to his surprise, the words coming from her mouth less than innocent and he grabbed her, holding her flush as he fucked her damned small body, swallowing her cries as she did. She bounced on him, nearly delirious, her hips erratic and inexperienced and he pulled out to turn her on her hands and knees, taking her from behind.

He bit the back of her neck, reminding her whose bitch she was and she cried out as he pounded her, marking her for the Thalmor. She would be theirs and theirs alone and none of her stupid Nordic companions or Housecarl could claim her again. He pulled at her hair. “Tell me who owns you, Eloine!”

“You!” she shouted without a thought, her nails digging into his arms as she bucked back feverishly. He bit her neck again nearly drawing blood.

“Who will you serve!?”

“Y-You!”

He grinned and drove into her, feeling her body shake. “W-Who will you bow to!”

She whined, thrashing, her head hitting his shoulder, her back arching and he reached between her legs, stroking her clit making her clench against him in a terribly wonderful way, her legs kicking out. “T-The Thalmor!”

“Good girl,” he kissed her neck. “Good girl, good girl, good girl…” He continued to praise and she let out a loud, animalistic cry as she had her first orgasm, her entire body tensing and making him choke. He continued driving into her, his fingers pulling across her white skin leaving marks and he came inside, ignoring his conscious warning him not to, fucking his seed into her body.

She collapsed, her cheek hitting the dirt and he remained above her, giving shallow thrusts while he panted, utterly exhausted. His nerves were frayed, his legs and thighs shaking and he looked down at her, feeling as if he may have overdone it. Damned girl was his first fuck in a multitude of years.

He pulled out and some of his semen went with it, spilling down her thighs and the ground. He exhaled, moving to sit away from her a bit as he calmed himself, reciting a mantra of his superiority as he looked around. She remained still half kneeling, exhausted against the dirt and above them the sun was dipping down near Dragonsreach signalling night was to come. He pulled back his hood, running a hand through his hair before he tucked himself away and struggled to get up.

He found her loincloth, stuffing it into his pocket as a trophy and he brought her armor to her, kicking at her to get up. She didn’t. “Eloine.”

She mumbled against the dirt, her eyes closed and he sighed, dropping the armor on the ground. He contemplated leaving her, the thought of wild dogs coming to eat her amusing for a second but he knew he needed her and he took to dressing her. The armor was as irritating as it looked but he got it on and made her shoulder her own pack.

He took to carrying her in a piggy back style, stumbling as he did and he slowly walked back across the plains towards Whiterun, grumbling as he did. He was going to sleep all night that was for sure. He thought of her annoying Housecarl and found himself grinning, knowing before he did he would have to make sure the girl knew of what he did. Their precious little dragonborn being fucked senseless by a Thalmor Agent; it was too sweet not to share.

She stirred against him, her cheek rubbing his shoulder. “Lorcalin…”

“What?” he asked but she said no more and he realized she was talking in her sleep. He sighed, blushing a bit at the thought but kept his eyes on the path ahead.


	17. Professional Grief (F!DB/Lorcalin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I'd love to read a story where a female (not necessarily the DB) is being manipulated by an ill-intentioned male character: he can be a Thalmor member, a jarl, a guard, a legate, a stormcloak, a guildmaster... whatever, I'd just like a young, ignorant, naive and innocent F!PC being manipulated, used, abused and not aware of who wrong this is and how bad this guy is.
> 
> Okay, this was the start of my mini-popularity on the kink meme. Lord knows why. I remember this was the point I got more comments than I ever had and freaked out due to it being weird people liked my shit. But then again, this was sort of amusing. Again, whether Lorcalin actually likes Eloine or not I still can't decide.

He loved the sound of angry Nords in the morning.

“Get out,” Aela snarled and he merely leaned against the post by the door, smirking.

“Where’s Eloine?” he asked, casual and the hall seemed to bristle with tension, one of the ugly troll twins grabbing at the sword on his back. He smiled down at him. “I wouldn’t, boy. I have free reign in your little province to kill and as much as it would be a pleasure making your head explode, I don’t fancy the paperwork after.”

“I’d like to see you try,” his lip twisted showing his teeth and he found himself chuckling more.

“Challenging a Thalmor? You’re stupider than I thought!” he said and the brute moved, stomping towards him but his brother stopped him, giving him a look of pure hatred as he did. Lorcalin only chuckled, tapping his arms. “I’ll repeat myself again for you useless brutes. Where is Eloine?”

“Right here,” he heard a man say and he looked to the stairwell where an old Nord was emerging from, his body weak as he made it to the landing. Behind him a little blonde came and she turned, looking around before she saw him. Her face lit up, her steps becoming more rapid and she rounded the bend, breaking into a run towards him. He uncrossed his arms, letting her throw herself into him and he could feel the disgust from the pathetic mortals around him, uncomfortable with her utter affection towards him.

He decided to really bother them, pushing her back and he forced her chin up looking deep into her eyes. “Lorcalin!” she said, bursting with joy and he smiled.

“Hello my little bird,” he purred and he leaned down, giving her a kiss. He could have burst out laughing at the sound of the barbarian woman scoffing in disgust, a rumble of distaste moving through the hall and Eloine flushed under him, giggling as he withdrew. She gripped his robes, her cheeks red, ears turning pink when the old goat from behind her spoke.

“Eloine! Heed my words!”

She looked over her shoulder, flushing but she nodded to him and Lorcalin narrowed his eyes. He’d have to ask her later about it. He tugged her making her focus back on him and he purposely kicked the door open to the hall making the ancient old bat who cleaned for them stiffen as he chipped the wood.

“Come on, Eloine. You’re needed by the Thalmor,” he said in a loud tone and she followed him, giving him a nod. He shut the door with a grin, loving the looks of utter malice he received, savouring it within his mind. They were too easy and too stupid to rile up; no wonder his little dragonborn fit in. She shifted next to him, holding his arm and he began to lead her away, making sure she was at his side as he took her down the steps.

“What does the Thalmor need?” she asked innocently and he shrugged.

“Nothing. Well, not exactly, I need you my little bird,” he cooed and she flushed, her grip tightening on his arm. “You’ve been gone too long from your house and I missed you.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, lovestruck and he grinned, parading her through the city ignoring the glares from the guards and townsfolk around him. He hated Whiterun, absolutely hated the filthy, disgusting place but his damned little pet project refused to leave it causing him to remain there to endure the stench of the filthy commoners. She was beloved by the people, as he found out through various means, her favors and utter devotion to being the Thane of the city giving her a high standing and because of that she didn’t dare stray far.

When he had first come there had been immediate resistance to him and her sudden relationship but as time went on and he sowed more seeds of discontent and sabotage, their hold on her had weakened. Before she would fidget and question the accusations of the Dominion’s atrocities; now she wouldn’t hear anything of it making him grin. He led her down past the market, ignoring the children running through it as he did and he turned her towards her little shabby home, ignoring her as she talked about some noble deed or whatever mindless task she did for the idiot Companions.

“Lorcalin!” she said his name and he looked down. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he said plainly making her frown. “I’m too busy thinking about how lovely and beautiful you are,” he lied and she flushed a deep red. “Come, my little bird. I haven’t seen you in a while and I rather wish to catch up. To your home now.”

She nodded, reaching into her pocket to pull out the key and he stared at it, trying to copy the details of it into his mind. He still hadn’t been able to pickpocket it off her as she carried a mess of keys with her at all times and she let go of him to strode up to door, unlocking it to let him inside. He held the door open, ushering her in first and she giggled, doing as he wanted.

Her key was in her pocket before he could snatch it and he cursed her, letting her move into her home. “Hello? Lydia? Are you here?”

An ugly, plain Nord came from alchemist room. “Eloine! My, I haven’t…” her voice trailed off when she saw him and she stiffened, sneering. “You lost?”

“No,” he said before the little dragonborn could. “But you look like you are. My, you’ve gotten more bestial since the last time I’ve seen you.”

“Fuck you, elf!” she spat, moving past her Thane to come up to him. He grabbed one of the swords by the door, holding it at the Nord before she came near him and she stopped, grabbing her own from her back. “I’ll kill you where you stand!”

“Try it, you ungodly bitch,” he said right back. “I’ll see your head on fire before you take a swing.”

“L-Lorcalin! Lydia! Stop!” Eloine cried making Lydia pull back, looking at her from over her shoulder. Lorcalin took the opportunity to take a few precise steps forward and her slammed the end of the blade against the Nord’s head making her yell out and take a swing. He caught it with the blade in his hand and Eloine yelled out. “Lorcalin!”

“You piece of shit!” Lydia snarled and he smirked.

“Such a foul tongue! I think it would be better cut off!”

“STOP!” Eloine shouted and the small house shook, her eyes wild as she stared at them. He stared at her, pursing his lips as he did but he respectfully moved away from Lydia, going to the stairs where Eloine stood near. She glared at him, her hands shaking and he touched her shoulder. She jerked to his touch.

“Sorry, my dear,” he said in a soft voice and her eyes moved to him, slowly looking him over before she turned back to normal. Lydia stirred from her spot.

“Eloine,” Lydia breathed out, lowering her sword. “Eloine, I’m-! No, my Thane, see?! See what he does? How he influences you?” She had relaxed a bit, frowning at her Housecarl’s words leaving her room to continue. “He is poisoning you, Eloine! How do you not see?”

“Eloine,” Lorcalin breathed next to her ear and she jerked, turning to him letting him kiss her cheek. She tensed, flushing and he took her hand. “I apologize for causing trouble. I just haven’t seen you for a while and would very much like to be alone with you.”

“Alone?” she asked and Lydia shook from her place.

“Eloine!” she said, nearly shouting and the girl’s gaze went to her. “Eloine, no! Don’t keep letting him lead you on?”

She furrowed her brows. “Lead me on..?”

“Lydia, catch,” Lorcalin said and he threw the sword at her making her shriek, moving out of the way as it hit the ground. He clucked his tongue. “Pick that up, won’t you? Your dragonborn was fetched by me, not you and I wish to speak with her.”

“Don’t touch her!” she shouted but he was already leading his pet upstairs, ignoring her slight resistance as she looked back to her housecarl. “Lorcalin, I’ll kill you!”

“Unlikely,” he yelled from the balcony, turning to grab the little Nord and sling her over his shoulder making her cry out in shock. He carried her the rest of the way, slapping her thigh as he did and she squirmed, pulling at his robes.

“L-Lorcalin! Lorcalin, t-this-!” she let out a cry as he kissed her bare calf, kicking the door closed behind him. “Lorcalin…! That tickles!”

“Does it?” he asked and he kissed her calf again, tugging at her boots making her squirm even more. “You’re ticklish here?”

“No!” she pleaded, yelping as he forced her off his shoulder and she hit her bed hard, bouncing on it. She let out a small laugh, disorientated and he leaned over her, kissing her nose. “Lorcalin! Y-You need to apologize to Lydia!”

“Later.”

“Lorcalin!”

He pushed her to the bed, pulling off her boots and she flushed, her cheeks still glowing. “What were you and that old goat talking about?”

“Old goat?” she frowned and he began working on her armor, undoing the straps and it was pulled off her, dropped beside the bed. She was naked below, her only undergarments covering her lower torso and he squeezed her breasts making her mewl.

“That Nord who told you to ‘heed his words’,” he said. “What did he mean?”

She shifted, uncomfortable. “Um, Kodlak. He’s the Harbinger,” she said and he rolled his eyes. He didn’t care what he was. “He… told me not to tell.”

He pulled her nipples making her gasp and a quick suck to her right one made her tune change. She began squirming below him, her legs spreading and her breath coming out in pants. “L-Lorcalin…”

“My dear girl,” he purred, releasing her now hard nub. “What have I told you about keeping secrets from the Thalmor?”

She frowned, her brows knitting together as she thought. “I-I shouldn’t.”

“That’s right,” he said, kissing the tops of her breasts, groping them as his lips moved up. She shifted more, her small fingers pulling at his arms. “Whatever he told you, you can tell me.”

She hesitated but relented. Idiot. “He said you were bad. The Thalmor are bad and Talos is a real god.”

“Is that so?” he muttered, nipping at her throat. “Why would he say such things to you?”

“I-I don’t know!” she said, whimpering. “I told him he was wrong! The Thalmor are good… Y-You are good! But he told me I was being… muddled?” She bit her lip and he looked up at her.

“Muddled?”

“It was a big word,” she said, flushing in embarrassment and he could guess at what the old bastard meant. Manipulated; good thing the stupid girl didn’t understand it. “I-I told him he was wrong…”

“Eloine, my darling,” he cooed, gathering her up into his arms, moving onto the bed and he began kissing her cheeks and neck until she was relaxed against him, giggling at his affection. “I’ve told you once before and I’ll tell you again. People, especially Nords, do not understand us so they will always try and drive us apart. But you know that I love you, don’t you?” He breathed against her ear and she gripped him, nodding.

“I-I love you,” she stammered, whimpering again as he kissed her temples.

“I know you do, my dearest little bird,” he purred, trying hard to keep down the laughter that wanted to escape his throat. She was so stupid, so trusting it was like killing a child. “So do not listen to them, they only wish to upset you. The Thalmor only want what is best for you – I only want what is best for you – and we are at your beck and call when you need us. We will never make you unhappy and always protect you, Eloine.”

She nodded, hugging his chest and he stroked her hair. “The Thalmor are my allies,” she said softly. “But… Talos?”

He sighed. “I’ve told you, darling, a mortal that murdered innocents and hurts others would never be a god. If he is anything, he would be more with a daedric prince and we don’t worship those, do we?”

“No!” she pushed away from him looking horrified. He couldn’t help but grin. He pushed it a little further.

“Exactly, my dear. And what man suggests you should worship a daedra? One that doesn’t have your interests at heart…”

She looked conflicted, her disgust at the mention of a daedra obvious in her mind but the old goat was dear to her. He watched her, curious on what her pathetic little brain would come up with and she finally bit her lip. “B-But Kodlak… is Harbinger. He’s… He’s good…”

“A wolf can mask themselves as a sheep, my dear,” he reminded her and she didn’t understand. “Some people who are good to you really wish to hurt you. He may seem nice but he may be wanting to destroy you. You are the dragonborn after all. Many men would like to see you dead.”

She slowly nodded, absorbing his words and he cupped her cheeks, kissing her again in false affection and she melted to him, whimpering his name. The wonderful lie he had just sold her made him chuckle, his fingers running over her body and he found himself actually wishing to reward her for her stupidity. The further he drove a wedge between her and those barbarians, the better. “Come, my darling. Lie back down.”

She did as he asked, their lips connecting once more and he pulled at the strings on her hips as his tongue pushed into her mouth, her pants of desire feeding his ego, her eagerness for him only making it better. He leaned back, tugging off his gloves and he undid his robes, pulling them over his head making her giggle. “What?”

She flushed, covering her mouth. “I-I like it when I get to see you... undress,” she said and he raised a brow, smiling at her.

“That’s rather naughty, my little bird,” he teased, poking at her stomach making her giggle. “You’re certainly a bit bolder these days.” She leaned up, wishing to help but he pushed her away, pointing to the end table. “Get the potion bottles, dear.”

She obeyed and he folded his robes, dropping them beside the bed before he ran a hand through his hair, watching her. She leaned over the bed on her stomach, reaching into the disorganized drawer full of books and necklaces and bottles and he crawled on top of her, biting the nape of her neck. She pressed into the threaded sheets, giggling and he lapped at her skin and rubbed himself against her bottom.

She spread her legs, as if she was ready for him and he merely gave her pale skin a harsh slap making her yelp. “Get the bottle, my little naughty girl.”

“Y-Yes Master,” she reverted to his title and he grinned. A few more lessons with her and he wondered if he could actually have her killing for the Dominion. She seemed to believe enough that their relationship actually existed instead of realizing he was merely using her. Maybe he could bend her to that point.

He reached down and spread her cheeks, looking between her legs while she shivered and finally she grabbed one of the bottles of lubricant he had stashed, holding it for him. He took it, popping the cork off and poured it against her, his fingers moving to make sure it was distributed well. He wasn’t in the mood for foreplay and judging by her movements, neither was she. He did admit he liked that, how she wasn’t demanding a long courting session like he was used to and he rewarded her by rubbing her clit. She panted and raised herself up on her knees in response and he chuckled.

“Feel good, my little bird?”

“Y-Yes!” she panted and he continued, making sure her entrance was slick.

He thought about her housecarl, how she was still down below and he pulled the little Nord flush against his body his fingers moving to work her from the front and she bit her lip, riding him. “Eloine, my dear, don’t hold back your voice alright?”

She frowned. “M-Master?”

He forced her chin up, the top of her head hitting his chest and he leaned down kissing her forehead. “That’s an order. I want to hear you saying my name, alright? I like it when you do.”

She swallowed but nodded, her cheeks still a rosy color and her eyes glazing over as he ran a finger over her clit. “Y-Yes M-Master…”

“Good girl,” he complimented and he let her go, allowing her to go down on her hands, spreading her as he did. She seemed ready enough, the girl having learned quick that his rewards felt good and he emptied the rest of the bottle out on himself. A few strokes and he was adequate enough to go and he took to mounting her, pressing her down against the bed. She whimpered from below, her muscles flexing as she had to support herself. “Good girl, Eloine. Keep relaxed.”

“L-Lorcalin!” she whined as he started pushing in, her walls still tight against him and he nipped the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hips making her buck. “L-Lorcalin!”

“Louder!”

“L-Lorcalin!” she cried out and he heard movement from below. He grinned, grabbing the headboard. Gods he hoped that damn bitch below could hear. “Lorcalin!”

He kissed her shoulders and pushed until he couldn’t go any further, until she was clenching around him, shivering from below. She pulsed around his cock, her breaths uneven and he smiled, reaching down to grab her breasts, squeezing. “Master!”

“I have missed you,” he sighed against her and she tried looking over her shoulder, her eyes bright. “My cute little bird.”

“I-I…” she began and he looked at her, watching her flush, giving him a look of pure adoration and love. She licked her lips, ready to speak again and he pulled out, thrusting in hard to silence her making her shout instead, her hands buckling; he wasn’t in the mood to hear romantic drabble. She was pressed against the bed, her knees spreading and he began a rough rhythm, forcing her to adjust to it, his gentleness only in his fingers pressing against her shoulders.

She adapted quickly, moving back against him and he bit his lip, chuckling as the headboard hit the wall again, her beginning to twist below. A few good thrusts and a fingers against her clit and she became desperate for him, her hips bucking back against his wanting release. Her panting increased and he pinned her down, making sure his strokes were powerful enough to continue making the bed shift to hit the wall. “L-Lorcalin!”

“Good girl,” he groaned, driving into her. She wasn’t as tight as before since he found himself regularly having to use her but how she seemed to conform to him now actually felt better. He angled his hips, his thrusts hard and she took it with a cry, arching her back to him. It helped that she seemed completely desperate for his dick, something he never got from the girls back in the Isles.

“Lorcalin! Lorcalin, a-ah!” her voice broke out in a cry. “S-So big! You’re so big!”

“That… I am… darling,” he purred, gripping her hair as he tried to control her damned thrashing. She was starting to clench around him, her arching and tugging on the sheets below an indicator she was getting close and he pulled her back against him, the new position breaking her concentration. She moaned out and he grabbed her breasts squeezing them. “Keep saying my name, my little bird.”

“Locralin!” she said automatically, her body quickly getting used to the new position. “Lorcalin!”

“Louder!”

“Lorcalin!” she shouted, riding him hard. He chuckled, thrusting into her, his stomach starting to knot as he finally felt the pullings of an orgasm in his gut and he had to test her again, his one hand gripping her throat as he forced her against him.

“Beg for me, Eloine,” he growled, roughly pulling her right nipple making her cry out in pain. “Beg for me, my little bird, for me to let you come!”

“M-Master!” she cried out, her small nails reaching behind her to try and grab any part of him, having to settle on his forearms after wielding no results. “Master, please! Please let me come! I’ve been a good girl!”

“Have you?” he hissed against her ear sending a shiver down her spine. “Have you been good for the Thalmor!?”

“Yes!” she pleaded.

“Will you always obey us!?” he growled, squeezing her throat a bit.

“Yes!”

“Tell me, Eloine! Tell me who you obey!”

“T-The Thalmor!” she begged, her throat rumbling against his hand. “I obey the Thalmor!”

“Louder!”

“I obey the Thalmor!” she shouted making him smile. “Master! Master, please!”

“Again!” he groaned.

“M-Master!”

He let go of her throat, grabbing her wrists and he forced her against the bed, fucking into her damned squirming body, her cries fueling him further. Gods above, she felt good. His dick was becoming soaked by her damned wet pussy, her clenching making him hiss and her sporadic thrusting back welcome. She still couldn’t take all of him in but what she could felt fantastic and he dragged his nails down her back as he rode her, no longer paying attention to sounds of the bed hitting the walls.

She came first, as always, crying out his name an endless amount of times, her clenching unbearable when she was at her peak. It almost drove him over the edge, the need to come teasing in the back of his head but her body started to relax; the tightness was subsiding and he desperately bit her shoulder to get it back, her pain making herself tighten and his seed finally spilling.

He bucked into as he did, not caring for a second that he was doing it and his forehead pressed against her hair, his fingers pulling at the furs below before he caught himself. He was panting, shaking, his eyes not wishing to open but he slid off, dropping beside her. She whimpered and crawled onto his chest, burying her face into his neck. “…Eloine…”

She wormed onto him more, his seed dripping out of her body as she did and she curled against him, cuddling him as if he was a giant stuffed toy. He let her, not in the mood to push her off.

“I love you,” she cooed and he cringed. He knew he had to say it, to maintain his control over her but it was the last thing he wanted to say.

“I… love you too,” he muttered and she nuzzled his neck, kissing it. Suddenly she was up and he coughed at the weight distribution, her hands pressing painfully on his chest.

“O-Oh no! L-Lorcalin! I think Lydia is still here!” she gasped and he opened one eye, giving her a look. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damned tired – damn girl knew how to make him spent.

“Eloine.”

“W-What?”

“Who cares,” he growled, pulling her down and he kissed her blushed cheek, feeling how soft she was before he got an idea. “Eloine, my dear… Do me a favor.”

“What?” she asked, biting her lip and he moved her head down, shifting his legs.

“Clean me,” he ordered and she blinked making him lift his hips up sending her entire face flushing making him grin inwardly. “Come now, my darling.”

“B-But…” she pointed. “Y-You were inside me.”

“I know.”

She pursed her lips, staring at him but he leaned up giving her a hard look which made her relent. She took his softening cock, holding it gently within her palm and she started to lick it, her hot mouth sending a shiver up him. He fell back against the bed, sighing as he did and he heard footsteps finally sound on the steps, the heavy boots slow as they took each one. Eloine pulled off, looking to the door but he forced her back, making her suck him while he listened to the movements.

There was a sigh outside the door and he laid against the pillows, hoping the insufferable bitch outside would come in. “Eloine?”

She pulled off his cock again with a wet noise. “Yes?” He pushed her back down.

There was a silence and Lorcalin tapped his fingers on the bed, waiting for Lydia to either enter or speak again. When his patience started running thin he began to speak. “Do you want something, Nord? Your dragonborn is a little busy.”

Eloine flushed and he pushed her head back down reminding her of her duty. She continued to lick him and he watched the doorframe, feeling a sort of tension from it.

“Lorcalin, get out,” Lydia merely said, not entering. “You’ve done enough. Leave my Thane alone.”

“We’re not done,” he mocked and he heard her shift outside. Eloine pulled off, her mouth opening but he shoved her back, displeased with her breaking his orders. “So either state what you want or leave. Preferably forever.”

He heard her exhale, a hiss to it and he grinned. “One day, Thalmor, you will be beheaded and gutted and no one will weep when you are.”

“I doubt that,” he growled, ignoring Eloine’s shifting against his cock, aware of how they were speaking. “Your kind lacks the intelligence to even match us Thalmor. Now unless you wish to keep interrupting my blowjob, go throw yourself off a cliff.”

He heard her stomp across the boards, her boots on the steps and the sound of the door slamming making his little pet pull herself from his grip, giving him a painful look as she did. “L-Lorcalin! Why would you say-!?”

“Eloine,” he growled, grabbing her arms and she stiffened at his roughness. “How many times have I told you before? I just did before this! There are people out there to hurt you and your damned Housecarl is one.”

She shook her head and pulled her wrist away. “No! Lydia would never-!”

“Eloine!” he snapped, making her wince. “I know it hurts but did you not hear her? Beheading someone innocent is not something a good person says.”

“She’s just… a-angry,” she protested, hugging her hands to her chest.

“And why would she be, Eloine? Because we are close? Because I am with you?” he asked and she fidgeted, confused. “Eloine, your housecarl is an enemy. You need to understand that.”

She began to look miserable, biting her lip as if she was going to cry and he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms as he stroked her hair, feeling her wrap her arms around him. “L-Lydia’s a good person…”

He stroked her hair, thinking. “Eloine, come back to the Embassy with me. Maybe you need some time with the Thalmor. We are the ones truly looking out for you, after all.”

She looked up at him and he continued stroking her hair. “The Embassy…? But… That’s near Solitude.”

“Yes?”

She went quiet, leaning against him but her head began to nod as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “W-Will the Thalmor welcome me…?”

“Of course.”

She remained silent for a bit longer. “Okay,” she nodded. “Okay. I-I need to see my allies anyways…”

He grinned from above her, gently rubbing her back as he did. He’d have to send a courier away to alert Lady Elenwen, maybe even one to the guards at Northwatch as they had expressed interest in the dragonborn before and he began pondering how they could break her. Their plans were coming together nicer than he thought and he almost wanted to go and thank Lydia for her intrusion, her act of loyalty only driving the dragonborn further into the Dominion’s arms.

She looked up to him, her fingers moving to hold one of his hands and he met her eyes, waiting. “What are you thinking about?”

He smiled. “Oh, just a welcome ceremony for you, my little bird,” he said and she brightened, shifting in his arms.

“Will there be sweet rolls?”

“Oh, most definitely,” he purred and she nuzzled him once more, her fingers lacing into his as she affectionately leaned against him, forgetting her problems from before.


	18. Sex and Lies (F!DB/Lorcalin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: It can be either the F!DB tying down a Thalmor and taking them or a Thalmor Agent capturing the F!DB and restraining them. Either way there needs to be more bondage and I can really see those bastard Agents being into it.
> 
> This is my weakest out of all my Eloine fics, but I really wanted to write this day. Ah, well. Anyways, this is the last of the Eloine fics. I've written a lot in various places what my plans were but I'll give the short answer here. Lorcalin dies due to Eloine being called up for a meeting at the Throat of the World. Lydia put up with him long enough. Eloine comes back from defeating Alduin, finds Lorcalin is gone and is heartbroken beyond belief. She leaves Whiterun, ends up with the Dawnguard and after she defeats Harkon, she goes back to stay with Gelebor since he was the only person who treated her like a friend. And that's where she stays and that's where she dies. The legend of the dragonborn becomes just a tale after that.

He had been waiting for her when she came in, his book being lowered and his goblet of wine being set on the table. The stout little dragonborn kicked her boots off at the entrance, not noticing him and she pulled off her massive greatsword making him frown. It was of dwarven make now, not the pitiful Skyforge steel and he wondered where on earth she had been when she turned around.

“Lorcalin!” she shouted, dropping everything to run to him. He rose from his spot, letting her throw her arms around him and he pulled her helmet off to smooth back her hair, ignoring her as she giggled and snuggled against him.

“My little bird, where have you been?” he asked and she moved back, her eyes looking to him in utter adoration. “Where’s your stupid housecarl?”

“Lydia’s at the market buying food,” she said, her fingers moving to touch his robes and he raised a brow at her. “Lorcalin! Lorcalin, I’m so happy you’re back!”

“Mmhmm,” he muttered, patting her head before he moved to pick up her knapsack, looking inside. Dwemer artifacts, new bottles of potions for stamina and health and he pulled out a necklace, turning it over. It was half rusted, the chain brittle and he rolled his eyes, dropping it back in. He dug some more, pulling out some leather straps and he turned to her. “My dear, where were you?”

She stared, blank. “Uhm. In a ruin. It had a weird name,” she said and he sighed. He couldn’t peg what obvious Dwemer ruin she had been in but he knew Elenwen would want to know.

“Where?” he asked again. “Were you in Winterhold? Eastmarch?”

“The Rift,” she said. He frowned. He wasn’t familiar with the Rift having a Dwemer ruin. He’d have to send word to the Embassy in case there was something in there they required. “I had to take a cube back for an Argonian lady. She was awfully bothered by it. But now it’s back.”

He stared at her, his tongue pressing against his cheek but he decided not to pursue the topic further. He looked at the straps in his hand, holding them at her and she flushed. “T-Those are for you.”

“What would I want with leather straps?” he nearly spat and she fidgeted and flushed.

“Lydia said you need them. She said you deserved a good strapping and so I made some from some pelts…” she began to babble and he sighed, rubbing his nose as he remembered who he was dealing with. Stupid girl. It was a bit funny that she mistook her bestial housecarl’s words as something literal and he looked down at them, judging what they were made from. It was either from an Ice wolf or a bear. 

He looked back at her, at her rambling and he suddenly got a wicked idea into his head. It hadn’t been that long ago since he last fucked her but he had to admit their little vanilla sessions were growing tiresome. The straps weren’t nearly good enough for fully binding her body to break but they would do to coax her into accepting such a thing should he want to pursue it further in the future.

“Eloine, my dear,” he said making her stop. “I did need some straps, thank you. But they weren’t for me, persay. More like I wanted some for you.”

“For me?” she tilted her head and he nodded, coming to her side.

“Yes, my little bird. For you. You see, I have been wanting to try something with you when I… reward you. Now is the perfect time to do it,” he mused and she flushed, fidgeting in her spot, her cheeks turning red and a smile crossing her face. “Shall we go upstairs?”

“O-Oh, but Lydia-?” she said and he waved her off.

“She’ll probably be gone for some time. Now come, my little darling. I very much would like to be close to you,” he purred, turning on his charm and she giggled like a child, touching her cheeks in embarrassment. He took her hand, kissing it and she giggled even more. “Come, my little bird. We do need some time alone.”

“’kay,” she said, turning to hurry up the stairs and he followed, watching her as she did. He had to admit he did like that plump little ass of hers especially when it was spread for him and she begged for the Thalmor and his cock; such an easy girl to manipulate. She opened the door to her room, scurrying in and he followed, closing and locking the door behind him. He didn’t really want her ugly housecarl trying to stop him.

She began undressing, pulling the heavy armor off and he set the straps down on the table in the room, carefully pulling off his gloves before working on his robes. She kicked off her trousers and gauntlets, hoping on the bed on all fours waiting for him and he smiled, motioning for her to turn around. She did and he admired her.

“Eloine, my pet, have you been being good while I have been gone?” he asked, pulling his robes off to lay on the chair, taking off his boots and she nodded from her position.

“Yes, master!” she reverted to his title. “I killed two Stormcloaks along the road when I saw them! Just like you said I should!”

He couldn’t help but grin at the thought. “Good girl… We mustn’t let those Talos-worshipping heathens corrupt the land.”

“Y-Yes!” she agreed and he chuckled. A Nord killing her own people. It was just too good. He set his boots aside, grabbing the straps and he came to the side of the bed motioning her to come near. She did and he took her wrists, binding them. “L-Lorcalin?”

“All part of the reward today, my little rabbit,” he said, tying them tight. “Open your mouth.” She did as he asked and he moved the strap between her teeth, tying it at the back. She didn’t protest and he kissed her forehead in response.

He admired his work, how her wrists were bound tight in front of her, the gag perfect on her mouth so he wouldn’t have to listen to her and he picked her up, sitting on the bed and dropping her on his lap. She squealed, trying to move but the restraints held her back making him grin.

“Now, my little pet, no thrashing,” he ordered and he reached down, his hand running over her stomach before it dipped to feeling her against her underwear, the fabric thin and allowing him to trace her sex. She squirmed. “Excited already?”

She nodded and he smiled, kissing her forehead. “Good girl,” he purred before he moved his fingers, rubbing her through the underwear she wore. She tensed, her back arching but she soon fell into it, riding him happily. He encouraged her to do it more, enjoying the view and how she easily relented to him and he kissed her neck, sucking on a spot to make sure she was marked. When he was done he leaned back and admired it. She couldn’t cover it up so all the idiots she conversed with would see tomorrow. He wished he could see the barbaric Nords up at their mead hall when they would notice. He loved seeing their disgust.

He decided to have some fun with her, throwing her over on the bed and she bounced against the straw, muffled giggles coming from her as he slapped her ass, pulling her panties down and off her body. When she tried to move he pushed her back and rubbed her bare pussy making her groan. He smiled and reached up, squeezing one of her breasts before going back down to concentrate. She was already wet from his previous teasing but he continued to rub her folds, feeling her pulse against his fingers. Such a lewd girl.

He pushed her legs together, sinking his fingers into her and he rubbed her walls making her try and twist on the bed. He grinned, giving her ass a light slap. “Don’t squirm, my little bird.”

She whimpered, sucking on the leather in her mouth and he withdrew, reaching up to pet her hair, his cock becoming hard as it pressed against her. “I know, darling, I know. You want me, don’t you?” he asked and she nodded. “Good girl. But I can’t just yet, you know that.” He slowly slid off the bed, moving to the end table and he searched it, not finding what he wanted. He moved to the chest, digging through the assortment of weapons and clothes and for some reason a leek and he found a bottle.

It was of poison and he growled, tossing it back in. She shifted on the bed, whining and he went to pet her again, kissing her forehead. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised and he unlocked the door, striding out naked as he searched the cupboards upstairs. Damn girl didn’t have any lubrication. He sighed, moving down the steps and towards the alchemy lab. He grabbed a few ingredients, pulverising them in the bowl and he fetched an empty bottle, setting it aside as he worked. The more he prolonged fucking the girl the more he curiously got harder, stroking himself a few times as he waited for the fire to take effect.

He contemplated how he got to that point in which he actually got hard thinking about fucking the dragonborn. By all accounts it should revolt him but her tight pussy and her utter devotion to him was a bit of a turn on. He remixed the ingredients, hearing the door slam and he looked over his shoulder listening. There was the sounds of a basket being put down, humming from the living room and he smiled wickedly. The lubricant came out, hot as it was poured into the bottle and he conjured some ice within his palm, cooling it.

Out he strode, smirking to see Lydia, his pet’s stupid housecarl unloading a basket. She looked up and shrieked, dropping it to cover her eyes. He chuckled. “Not used to basking in such glory, Lydia?”

“Lorcalin! Lorcalin, what are you doing-?! No, don’t answer that!” she shouted, turning away, her teeth gritting and he chuckled as he moved to the stairs.

“What do you think I’m doing? Fucking your sweet dragonborn’s pussy,” he commented. “You know, as I have been ever since I took her virginity out on the plains… How she moaned when she got her first taste of me.”

“Go fuck yourself Lorcalin!” Lydia shouted, not turning back though. “I’ll fucking kill you! You leave her alone!”

“What if I brought some friends over too?” he mocked, climbing up a few of the stairs. “Get your precious little Thane brutally fucked by the Thalmor? I’ll let you stay in your room and listen as she cries for the Dominion to dominate her… ”

She screamed, turning on him and he shot a paralysis spell at her, stunning the girl and she fell down as stiff as a board. He laughed, moving up the stairs and he went back into his dear pet’s room, ignoring her frantic eyes and fussing. He shut the door, uncorking the now lukewarm bottle of lubricant and he sat down on the bed beside her. “Nothing to fear, my little bird. Just… A minor hiccup.”

She said something which he ignored, pouring the thick liquid over his cock and he stroked himself, sighing as he did. Once he was sure he was good he crawled over to her and slapped her ass, pushing the bottle against her and pouring, watching it spill over herself and thighs. He rubbed it in, making sure she was completely wet and she shifted, her legs clenching. He smiled and soothed her by massaging her thighs.

“Do you want me in you, my dear?” he asked and she nodded, squirming. “Show me how much you want it then.”

She struggled, moving onto her stomach and her cheeks and ears were red as she raised her hips up, her knees spreading letting him see her from behind. She was eager for him, desperate almost and he smiled, gently grabbing her hips before he mounted her as if she was a common bitch in heat. He didn’t push in right away, teasing her opening by rubbing himself between her folds and he breathed on the back of her neck making her let out muffled moans.

“Shall I fuck you, my dear?” he asked and she furiously nodded, her hips moving. “If that’s what you wish.” Slowly he lined himself up, easily pushing in and he didn’t wait as he sunk down, feeling her clench and thrust and whimper until he was six inches deep. He stopped and she groaned from below. “S-Such a good girl.”

She moved, her eyes glazing over, her legs spreading more and he finally reached down and undid the straps around her mouth, loving the sounds of her panting as he did. “Master! Master, you’re so big! I love it!”

“I know you do, darling. You’re made for taking in your superiors,” he complimented, grinding down a bit in emphasis and she panted louder like a dog. “I’ll make sure to reward you well.”

“M-Master!”

He kissed the top of her head. “Shall I fuck you?”

“Yes!”

He didn’t hold back as he thrust in. The first turn was usual of her. She didn’t buck back, merely moaned and he felt how easily he moved inside her, her arousal for him making it swift and simple. Such a change from when he first took her but the fact he didn’t have to go through a long prepping process made up for it. The second brought a bit more movement from her. She moved her hips from side to side, clenching lightly here and there. When he got to a rhythm she finally turned back into the little tease he knew her as. She thrust back against him in time, tightening herself every so often as she did.

By the time he was outright pounding her she was doing it back, moaning his name as she did. Her stamina was impressive, her ability to take him making him smile and he grabbed her hips, kissing her neck. It didn’t hurt to actually praise her once in a while.

He undid her bindings, forcing her to get on her hands and knees and become flush against him and she wildly bucked back like an unbroken stead. He could feel her desire. “L-Lorcalin!”

“G-Good girl…” he groaned in her ear, making sure every thrust he made she felt right to her bones. Her legs spread giving him more access, able to go a bit deeper and her bouncing breasts were grabbed by his hands, using them as leverage. She took it, happily, crying out his name relentlessly and he could feel her losing it.

He did contemplate stopping to tease out a few orgasms for her but the thought of prolonging his own release made him reconsider. He’d do it another day. For now… He harshly fondled her.

“Come for me, dragonborn!” he nipped at her ear and she let out a high cry, trying to obey his command. It took a bit of thrusting, her legs spreading more and her fingers gripping the sheets beneath before she finally came crying his name. He absorbed it, fucking her into the bed, making her legs press together to get a bit of tightness before he let go. He flooded her with his seed, parts of it spilling out and he groaned, grabbing her hair as he did. She let him, arching her back and she once again clenched making him thrust in a few more times.

“Master!”

He pulled out, spreading her legs and his mouth was against her, tasting himself and her own come mixing. She let out a shout, moving to get away but he held her steady as he licked, cleaning her up somewhat. He made sure he collected some in his mouth, moving up to pin her to the bed and he kissed her, his tongue pushing the semen and fluid into her. She shook, accepting it and he made sure she swallowed before pulling away. She let out a pant, whimpering.

“M-Master…” she whined and he reached back down, catching some on his fingers before he pushed them into her mouth, making her taste more.

“Suck, Eloine,” he ordered and she did, cleaning his fingers. He would have gotten hard again if he didn’t remind himself fucking her twice in a row meant a larger chance of her actually getting pregnant, something he was forbidden to do. Once she was done he went and fetched the poison from the chest, forcing her to drink it and she choked, nearly throwing up until he stopped her.

“Lorcalin!” she cried and he soothed her back.

“I know, my little bird, but orders are orders. We can’t have you sporting a child. The Stormcloaks would come after you if you did and try to kill you and your baby. Remember?” he said, hoping she still remembered the pitiful lie he fed her and she nodded.

“S-Stormcloaks hurt children,” she said and he gave a somber nod. Such a stupid girl. “But Lorcalin… what…?” She asked and he looked down at her. “What if you did give me a baby?”

He stared at her. He’d kill her before he would ever sully his name with a half-breed. “Eloine, my love, you’re too young for that still, remember? You need to be at least over thirty to have a child. You’re still only below twenty.”

She frowned, using her fingers to count and her cheeks began to flush. “Do you mean… you’ll be with me until then?” she asked and he smiled, petting her hair. Not likely, he mused. With his luck, once the Thalmor were done with her she’d be chained in the dungeons of the Summerset Isles or used as a whore for the soldiers. He knew the men could be brutal when horny and some were larger lengths than him making him wonder if she could adjust before he recalled he didn’t care.

“Of course, my dear.”

She moved up, snuggling into him and he let her, touching her smooth skin. She was still white as snow save for the few scratches and bites he had lovingly left on her. He turned her around, wrapping his arms around her stomach and they stayed in place until he heard movement below. Looked like Lydia was back up. He sighed and let her go, moving off the bed.

“Lorcalin?”

“Stay put, darling,” he said and he opened the door, moving back down the stairs to see the housecarl on her knees, still recovering from the paralysis. He crossed his arms, leaning against the chair in the living room and when she turned he smiled at her making her growl. “Your Thane’s pussy has been thoroughly fucked, if you wish to know.”

“Perish to Oblivion,” she hissed, holding her head before she attempted to stand. He watched her, amused before he raised a hand, calling up a spell.

“By the way, I’ll be taking her to Northwatch for a little get together with a few of the Thalmor mages. They want to test how many cocks she can take at once. Three is normal but… we may try and fit in four.”

She pushed herself up, grabbing her weapon and she lunged for him, missing by an inch. He felt the air move next to him and he slammed her body with another paralysis spell watching her hit the floor. Once he was certain she was down he checked her pockets. Nothing of interest. He sighed, kicking her for good measure before he retired back to the bedroom upstairs, sweeping the little Nord into his arms. She nuzzled him, curling into his body and he kissed her neck.

“I love you, my little bird,” he lied.

“I… love… you too,” she whispered back.


	19. All Men Are Pigs (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: For such a versatile fandom, the kink meme and Skyrim fanfiction in general has an almost complete lack of AUs. And I eat AUs up like candy in all my fandoms, so you can see how this is just distressing. So give me your AUs! Literally any AU!
> 
> No, I don't believe all men are pigs. But that is what I was listening to when I came up with Alla. This is an AU but it gave birth to one of my most notorious dragonborns. Allessandra Cipassius. The Thalmor-lover herself. Extremely rude, unapologetic in her sexual deviancy, and has Ancarion scarred for life. She was always fun to write. Well, up until I realized I liked killing her than writing her sexcapades. Buuuut that's in the past now! This is her start,

She sighed as she pushed open the door to the Starbucks, the smell of caramel and coffee filling her senses making her forget her wet boots and sour day. The mixture of rain and snow outside was more than miserable and after speaking to Professor Tolfdir on her biology assignment, she felt more overwhelmed than she had ever been. She needed to get dry, have a coffee and relax before catching the bus home – something she wasn’t looking forward to either as the cold weather meant more people crammed into it making it hot, stuffy, full of sickness and irritably, no seats.

She pulled out her wallet as she came to the counter, her eyes checking the board quickly, forgetting what she wanted when the barista leaned on the counter staring at her with a bored expression. Her eyes met his and she found her cheeks flushing a bit. Despite how uninterested he looked, he was attractive; then again she always had a thing for men with dark hair. “Help you?”

“Uh, yes,” she said softly, shouldering her purse as she pulled out her card. “Can I get a Tall Caramel Flan latte?”

He didn’t say anything as he plucked a cup off the stack and scribbled something on it.

“Name?”

“Alla,” she said. “A-L-L-”

“A-H,” he finished, still writing with the marker. “I got it.”

“No, no H! Just A-L-L-A,” she pointed out and he stopped, saying nothing but he scribbled on the paper cup making her sigh. She should just start making up a nickname to give out. He whistled at the other barista behind the counter and threw him the cup, turning back to her with a bored expression again.

“Payment?”

“Credit,” she held it up and he pointed at the machine after typing into the register. As she swiped the card twice he leaned over, catching a look into her open purse. 

“Student at the college?” he pointed at the book shoved in her bag. She frowned, looking down until he realized he saw her texts.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she casually commented, waiting for the machine to tell her it was approved. “You go there?”

He shrugged as he reached over and hit the green button, waiting for the receipt to print before ripping it. “I would… but I already am an expert on all the subjects they teach.”

For some reason, her cheeks flushed and she awkwardly stood as he handed her the receipt, moving back to lean against the counter behind him. “Thanks,” he said in a monotonous tone and she went to the order counter, catching a glimpse at him as she did. Of course. Tall, handsome, dark hair and a total jerk. She had to stop falling for men like that.

The other barista, a tall young boy wearing a shirt with scales on it underneath his apron and wild dyed hair was more accommodating. “Would you like a lot of whipped cream?” he asked in a strange, warm accent and she gave a nod. He smiled at her, a toothy grin. “Next time you come in, you should ask me for one of my special drinks!”

“Special drinks?”

“Yeah,” he said as he handed her the hot latte, giving her a straw as he did. “I invented a bunch of mixed drinks using the ingredients here. Some are quite the hit!”

“I’ll remember for next time,” she thanked him and took a seat opposite of the counter next to a large window that looked out onto the street. She emptied out her purse of her textbook and notepad before she pulled out the metro paper she had been reading that morning while waiting for class to begin. She took in a breath, sipped her coffee and relaxed, sinking into the seat. She would stress later as right now she wanted peace.

Her eyes went to the street, watching a few people trudge through the slush with their faces covered in scarves and she found herself absently watching another dark haired man. He was in an expensive suit, his wealth showing and beside him walked a tall, beautiful trim woman with short blonde hair, her clothes less expensive but still impressive. She seemed to be arguing with him over whatever was in her briefcase and he gave her an annoyed look, saying something that she could tell was rude.

Tall, dark, handsome and a jerk. Alla opened her paper, sighing. She really wished she was attracted to blonde men sometimes. She flipped through it, ignoring the hundreds of ads before the crossword caught her eye. She smiled as she looked at it, unfinished with harsh scrawling in the boxes. Before class that morning, J’zargo had seen her looking at it and had issued a challenge on finishing it before she could.

All the words he put in the boxes were wrong but he was so adamant that he was right she had just let him keep the victory he perceived he had gotten. She giggled when she thought of it and sipped her coffee again. She really did like J’zargo despite his competitive nature and troublemaking tendencies.

The thought of her fellow student made her set aside her paper and open her textbook, flipping to the section on various flora and fauna she needed to memorize. She started to work, drinking at times as she did but inevitably her mind wandered. She watched the two baristas chat to each other before a woman with a shaved head and red apron emerged from the back and told them to get back to work. Obviously the manager.

A business executive came in with two people behind him and she found herself watching them with curiosity. The woman in the entourage had dark skin and flaming red hair but she seemed as cold as the weather outside and the balding, chatty man was in a slightly worn suit. He was arguing with the older, blonde man who walked to the counter, his voice kind as he ordered.

“Please, Balgruuf,” the man pleaded. “I just got another email from his assistant, Rikke. They need an answer!”

The man did not seem bothered by the stress in the other’s voice. He merely pointed to the woman who looked to the board before back at him.

“I’ll take a tea.”

“Alright. Two black coffees and one tea.”

“If you do not communicate back to Tullius, we will lose the deal and it could be disastrous!” the stressed man cut in and the woman gave him a look. Alla could feel it almost get colder in the building.

“Avenicci, I told you. I will talk to him in time,” the executive sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck looking at the sweets on display next to the till. He went to the cooler and grabbed a water, putting it on the counter as an afterthought. “Our business is still stable and I am not ready to hand over ownership of our company to a larger one who won’t even care about our people!”

“A wise choice,” the woman commented from behind him and the man named Avenicci seemed distressed.

“Balgruuf, we aren’t losing money yet but it will happen! Our stocks have been hovering at less than four dollars a share since September and if we are not careful, another company will come in and-”

The executive dropped a bundle of bill on the counter and she could see the dark-haired barista’s eyes open in shock. He didn’t seem to notice. “Avenicci, calm down. We are here on a break! Talk about work at work!” he chuckled and he turned to the shocked barista. “No need for change. You can keep all that.”

“Sure!” he said as he rang in their drinks and he snapped his fingers at his co-worker who was already busy brewing up what they wanted. The trio moved to the waiting counter, the lead of them grabbing a few napkins and handing them to the woman before he rested on the table. Avenicci didn’t seem pleased about being told not to chat about work.

“Avenicci,” he said. “How is your daughter?”

He sighed. “Busy, sir. She said she wishes to craft you some art from her store.”

Balgruuf nodded but did not respond. They all stood awkwardly and Alla smiled and looked back out to the street. She frowned as she saw a homeless man walk by on the other side of the street, pleading with anyone who went near him, almost on his knees at times when a police officer came to escort him away. The man begged at the officer and she could hear his voice in distress from the window making her look to her work in shame. She felt bad and a bit embarrassed for the man but knew better than to get involved.

The executives and his entourage left and she found her focus on her work waning. She drank more coffee, scribbled some doodles on her notes and went back to watching the world. A bus pulled up outside the window and let a few passengers off but she noticed the billboard on the side. The Companions College Football team were facing The Silver-Hands on Saturday. She hated sports but recalled the images of the Quarterback and Defensemen; two brothers who were… Tall. Dark. Handsome. She rubbed her eyes in annoyance.

She had to stop thinking about men and focus. Professor Tolfdir may be lax in his teaching but he was brutal with his grading on papers and tests.

She stuck to it for ten minutes before she was back watching people. Two scary looking people passed by the window dressed all in black. One was an old man who wouldn’t have looked so sinister if his face wasn’t locked in a permanent scowl and the other was a young dark-skinned woman by his side, smoking a cigarette and smirking as if she had committed a crime. Somehow, Alla didn’t doubt she hadn’t.

Not long after there was a group of gruff men in heavy jackets and hardhats crossing the street where she could see. Their skin was dark and they looked as if they had come from an underground mine when she noticed one had a tool belt on. Construction workers; the weather was miserable for anyone to be working outside but she figured it had to be done as they said.

Well-dressed women passed making comments on a woman’s clothes from across the street, some children went running by on their way home from school. Once she thought she saw J’zargo but it was another man who looked like him with a few people in shawls and furs. He escorted them across the street and she watched them until the door to the store opened and a young, bronze-skinned man entered, shuddering as he knocked some drops off his coat. Alla perked up.

“Enthir!” she waved, trying to keep her voice at a reasonable level but it came loud and echoes across the room. He turned, lighting up a bit when he saw her and he came over, still wiping his sleeves as he did.

“Hey freshman,” he slipped into the seat across from her and he peered at her work. “Heh, came here to study? The library isn’t good enough?”

“Please,” she muttered as she closed the textbook on her notes. “I have some late fees and I swear Urag will kill me the second I set foot in there for it. He’s such a prick about those books.”

“Hey, the old man needs something to obsess over,” Enthir chuckled. “Just be glad he isn’t like Septimus. That man, I tell you, was fucked.”

Alla smiled and Enthir pulled off his coat, slinging it over the chair before he pulled out his wallet, digging in it for some bills. He gave her a wink and got up to hit the counter leaving her to pull out the metro and flip through it until he came back, her eyes glazing over as she did.

She hit the personals and found herself smirking as she read over the Missed Connections. They were so pathetic sometimes and she couldn’t help but focus on them, the first already showing potential for hilarity.

Enthir came back with a coffee and he dropped down, taking a long drink before focusing on her. “What you got? Is that the crappy paper you get down at the subway?”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “Look, the Missed Connections. For the creepers looking for their soul mates that they saw for a brief moment on a bus. I love these!”

“Oh brother. Shouldn’t you be studying?” he smirked but he pulled his chair to her side so he could read with her. She moved the paper over.

“Look. The first one is gold,” she giggled. “I saw you at the bookstore looking at architecture and design. I fell in love with you right then and there. You were in jeans and a t-shirt and had pink nails.”

Enthir snorted and grabbed his coffee. “I know girls I pick up at bookstores have been the loves of my life.”

“Me too!” Alla joked and he pulled the paper towards him, pointing at one.

“Look, look. I met you at the liquor store. You were buying wines and so was I. We hit it off right off the bat,” he snorted. Alla laughed. “You recommended a Grey Goose and had to leave. I bought it. Hope to meet you again to discuss other wines. What bullshit.” He took another drink. “Why doesn’t he just say he wants to bang her? That’s what I would do.”

“Of course you would,” she sighed as her eyes roamed the others. “I saw you on Friday, putting gas in your Prius. I was putting air in the tires of mine. We couldn't stop looking at each other. I was late to pick up a friend so I couldn’t chat. I really regret it and hope you see this.”

Enthir groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Fuck, Prius love. Is there anything more pure in the world?”

Alla had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing too loud. Enthir checked through the others, snickering as he did but he eventually turned the page, looking for more. Sadly, there was none and he flipped to the puzzle section, pulling a pen out from his jacket. “It would be a sad day on earth the moment I wrote one of those pathetic things.”

“You don’t ever want a stranger to know you fancy them in a newspaper you pick up at the bus?” she asked. He shook his head.

“I’m pretty sure if I did, I wouldn’t write such an obvious nice-guy lie about it. I would just straight out say ‘Hey. I saw you looking pretty fine. I will eat you out if you suck my dick. Then I will kick you out of my bed in the morning and get tested for STDs. Call me’,” he mocked and Alla found herself giggling again.

“You’re such an ass, Enthir.”

“Someone in this world has to be,” he remarked and he started filling in the squares for Sudoku when he paused. “Hey. You having a tough time in Marence’s class?”

“No,” she took a sip of her coffee.

“Hm.”

“Why?”

He shrugged but she could tell he was up to no good. She set down her drink and gave him a long, hard look. “Enthir, you’re going to get kicked out!”

“No I’m not,” he scoffed. “And all I asked was if you were having trouble! I could have been offering a tutoring session for all you know.”

“Are you?” she asked and he grabbing his coffee, downing it, before pulling out his wallet.

“Oh. Hold that thought, my nosy little freshman. I need more coffee,” he said and he was up making her sigh. She flipped the pages of her text book, trying to concentrate but it was impossible. Her eyes went out to the street again, watching the snowflakes slowly come down to dissolve into water on the sidewalk and a mailman went sliding by, struggling not to fall as he did. He disappeared around the corner and she wondered if he fell.

No one seemed to stop and he didn’t come back so she assumed he kept going. Her eyes glazed over as she continued to watch, not hearing Enthir come back to sit down and continue his puzzle when something caught her attention.

A man walked past the window and her eyes followed him as he disappeared for a moment before the door to the store opened.

She felt her breath hitch as her eyes followed him. She was not into blonde men or beards but there was something about this guy. He was tall, strong, and despite being covered in a thick jacket made up of furs, he looked more rugged and manly than a lumberjack that had killed a bear with his fists. His beard wasn’t unkempt or dirty either; actually it enhanced his features. Normally anyone with a beard was so off-putting to her. Her father had a beard. Homeless men. Hipsters who looked like homeless men but with ipads. But this man…

She whimpered and Enthir stopped doing the Sudoku puzzle to turn and look over his shoulder. “What? What is it?”

“N…Nothing,” she said in a hasty tone, her eyes going back to her textbook. She ripped open her notepad and flipped between pages before grabbing her lukewarm coffee and downing a large portion of it. It turned out to be a mistake when she choked and Enthir laughed at her expense.

“What’s got you acting all stupid?” he said and he looked around again. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the handsome stranger go to the counter and make an order. His voice drifted to her and she felt herself shiver. It was a low tone, foreign and deep and she immediately filled her head with expletives and scenarios of this man going down on her.

She hit her forehead on her book. What was wrong with her? Tall, dark, and handsome was her type. Tall dark and handsome!

“Thank you,” she heard the stranger tell the barista and she felt her cheeks turn red. How she wanted him to say that to her after ravishing her on her bed. No-! What? No! What was she thinking?!

Enthir was laughing next to her and he hit her head with the metro paper. “Hey, you get a boner or something?”

“Don’t be stupid!” she hissed and she grabbed the paper, kicking his leg before her eyes went up and she saw the stranger look to her. Her entire body lit on fire and she slammed her head back on her book, using the paper to cover herself. Enthir was laughing even harder now.

“You know, if you don’t want anyone to know you have the hots for them, try not acting like a lunatic.”

“Shut up!”

“Should I call him over?”

She was up, giving him a look of hatred and fear and he began to turn, smirking as he did. She reached over and grabbed his neck, purposely choking him as she did and he reached over to push her away with his hand, the two of them fighting as they did.

From the counter, the barista working the register spotted them and started to yell. “Hey! No fighting in this store! I’ll throw both your asses out, do you hear me?!”

Alla kicked Enthir hard in the shin but she let go of him making him hiss and grab his knee. He, in turn, kicked her in the thigh and she let out a yelp, grabbing where it was sure to bruise. When she looked up, the handsome stranger was holding a coffee and making his way to the door, not even noticing them. Her eyes followed him, watched him walk out into the street and meet with an older man who looked like he had seen more wars than an Army General. They fell in line next to each other, walking past the window once more and she stared, her heart beating hard in her throat.

When he disappeared she slumped in her chair, hand still caressing where Enthir had hit her and he was rubbing his shin but smiling.

“I’d hate to see what you did if he spoke to you. Would your lungs have burst?”

She scowled at him, her ears burning and the room feeling too hot and she quickly drank the rest of her coffee, tossing the cup at the recycle bin before she gathered her stuff.

“I’m going home,” she muttered and Enthir shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

“Whatever. See you around the campus freshman spazz.”

She said nothing but quickly exited, almost wishing to go the direction the stranger had but she reminded herself stalking was illegal and creepy. She walked to the bus stop, her boots becoming wet again and her miserable mood coming back and she boarded a crowded bus that stunk of body odor and cigarettes. She fumbled for her music and shoved the headphones on, her eyes glazing as she stood between two men.

She thought of the stranger. Gauging on it now, he had to be at least twenty years above her. He was probably married with kids or, knowing her luck, gay. She tried to put it out of her mind but the thought was already there. She wanted that man fucking her, just for a day.

She groaned inwardly and spent the rest of the ride fighting between her thoughts of being taken and chastising herself on being stupid.

 

A text message woke her and she struggled to find her phone on her nightstand, yawning as she looked at the time. She could hear her roommate Valdimar in the shower singing in Russian or Czech or some eastern language and she settled for doing her makeup on her bedroom floor, shoving her hair under a hat before reading the text properly.

It was from Enthir; he was telling her she needed to grab the Metro.

She frowned and shut off her phone, digging in her purse for some lip chap when Valdimar came out of the bathroom in a small towel, standing near her open door. She shook her head. “Put some clothes on!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he walked to his own room and she focused on getting dressed, making sure she had her keys before heading to the door. “Hey, Alla?”

“Yes?”

“Have you seen Mjoll?”

She frowned. “Your girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrected her and she sighed. Every other week it was either they were on each other or punching each other.

“No. Valdimar, I need to go,” she started opening the door and he didn’t seem happy but let her leave.

She had to run to the bus, stopping to grab a Metro along the way as Enthir asked before she was crushed between two high school boys and a very annoyed businessman. He smelled of too much cologne and when he noticed her trying to read a book on biology he sneered at her.

“You from that college?” he said and she felt herself become very uncomfortable and shook her head.

“I… go to high school,” she lied and he looked her over making her flush.

“Stay away from that college. It’s trouble,” he growled and she nodded before moving closer to the two high school boys who were laughing over a fart joke. She hated the bus, she hated the bus, she hated the bus.

When she finally got off and made her way into the college, her mood improved with the sight of J’zargo. He was trying to break into a vending machine but stopped when she came over. “Machine ate my money!” he said but somehow she didn’t believe it.

“Good morning J’zargo,” she said in a light tone.

He focused on her and took her purse, opening it to dig inside. She slapped his hand away but he pulled out the metro, a cat-like grin on his face as he did.

“Ah, you grabbed the paper, yes? Want to see J’zargo finish a crossword again?” he purred and she took it back from him, absently opening it.

“No, I don’t. Enthir told me to pick it up. Real important for some reason,” she said and he tried to take it back when a voice calling to them distracted him enough for her to step away from him, holding the paper possessively to her chest.

Onmund and Brelyna waved from down the hall just arriving themselves. J’zargo went to greet Brelyna, looking into her purse and Onmund came to her, smiling as he did.

“Morning Alla. Ready for another fun day?”

“Not really,” she smiled and she found herself flipping through the paper.

“You didn’t finish your assignment?”

“Uh…” she looked past the ads, not really wanting to discuss how her assignment went. She flipped past the empty crossword and Sudoku puzzles and her eyes fell on the Missed Connections. She felt her body go stiff.

He… didn’t.

He fucking didn’t.

Her hands began to shake as she held the paper, her jaw now clenched painfully and J’zargo came up beside her, curious. He looked over her shoulders, his fingers slipping into her purse to take her pack of gum and he nuzzled her cheek. “What is it? You find some information J’zargo can use?”

“I’m…” she let out a shaky breath. “I am going to kill him…”

Onmund came up beside her to look at the paper before Brelyna snatched it from her hands, reading over what she was looking at. She frowned. “The Missed Connections?”

Alla snatched it back, the paper becoming a wrinkled mass in her hands and she felt her anger rise to an almost boiling point. “Where’s Enthir?! Have you seen him?!”

“No,” they admitted and she ripped out her phone, dropping the wadded metro so she could angrily text him, phoning him when he didn’t respond after a second. Brelyna picked up the paper again and read over the connections.

“I saw you in the Starbucks. You were so handsome, I caused a scene and practically has an orgasmic reaction upon your eyes connecting with mine. I’m a student at the college. You’re a blonde homeless guy wearing a ladies fur coat. Please, hook up with me.”

“I’m going to MURDER him!” she screamed and all three stared at her as she dialed Enthir’s number again, her entire face red and her mind unable to focus other than killing was what she needed to do.

Floors above them, Enthir chuckled as he looked at his vibrating phone, taking his time to drink his coffee as he did. Nelecar stood beside him, counting out some change before he handed it over.

“Here. Now get me that star!”

“In due time, Nelecar. In due time.”


	20. Trojans (F!DB/Legate Fasendil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: A M!NPC spying the F!DB washing herself/having her bath (anywhere in Skyrim). Her housecarl, her Jarl, her follower, a passing by bandit, a Companion, a Thalmor... I don't care who, but he spies her and she doesn't notice him. Up to anon if he's doing something after. 
> 
> Of course she hits on Legate Fasendil. I don't know any sane person who wouldn't.

Alla groaned in pain as she sunk into the water, the oil she had scrubbed into her hair getting into her eyes making her blind for a second, her mind cursing her for her stupidity. This was why she hated bathing in an open lake. It was so much easier under a waterfall with a steady stream to wash away any type of perfume or oil or potion instead of having to scrub and dunk; she also didn’t appreciate how much of the wildlife around her seemed to stop and watch. Yes, she was bathing, an odd sight to a fox or the herd of elk near the northern edge. Didn’t mean they had to remain to stare at her as if Kynareth was judging.

She sighed and dunked her head under a few more times, growling as she rubbed her eyes before throwing her head back sending a whiplash of water behind her. She stayed half submerged staring out at the lake to the trees that were still refusing to shed their leaves, the air warm with the scents of birch and smoke from nearby Ivarstead. She had just come from clearing out a bear den on request of Urag. Apparently some bandits had thought it smart to hide a rare book in a chest buried deep within in it. Smart indeed. She found their bodies after she had killed the bears and had taken what little coin they had from them in a small amount of compensation. But she stunk of the beasts and blood and dirt and had come to the lake for a wash, sighing as she felt her scarred skin as she rid herself of the filth. She closed her eyes to enjoy it for a moment, how clean the air smelled and how warm the water was.

She wouldn’t say the Rift was the most beautiful hold in Skyrim but it came close with its eternal Autumnal forest and ring of mountains that seemed to coddle it. She preferred Winterhold due to the company and ties she had but the Rift had a sense of peace for her. It provided a nice loneliness she rarely had at the college and she could take her time instead of rushing away from Snow bears and ice wraiths. She didn’t know why Winterhold was clogged with such irritating beasts. Then again, the Rift was absolutely teeming with wildlife that were docile but nosy as she caught, once again, the look of a fox at the waters edge. It looked at her knapsack and she hissed and splashed some water at it causing the little thing to go darting away. But she took comfort in the fact that it didn't try and kill her for said pack as she would experience when she went back towards the college.

She found herself sighing and she leaned back, trying to float. She did for a second before sinking, kicking out to get to the surface before water filled her lungs. She growled, wiping the water from her face, annoyed that she couldn't keep afloat - which was a simple thing she used to do as a child - and she looked to her knapsack which sat on the shore behind her wondering if her waterbreathing potion would allow her to swim when she saw movement. She froze, her heart beginning to race and for a second a person flashed in her mind.

Delvin? No, it couldn’t be. He rarely left the Flagon and was more obsessed with Vex anyways. She didn’t blame him. Vex was quite becoming for an Imperial. She, on the other hand, was more childish looking than serious and she touched her short red hair, pulling it back before she realized she was forgetting the point.

“Who’s there!” she yelled out at the woods, hoping it wasn’t some sort of monster or troll. She had heard enough tales from the gossip of the Holds to know those things weren’t what a person wished to meet naked. She flexed her arms, turning to face the shore readying her hand with an ice spell. “Hello!?”

Nothing moved making her grow angry and she sunk into the water leaving only above her eyes exposed, searching. There was no movement after causing her to become suspicious that whatever it was, it was still watching, and she slowly stood back up until her waist was exposed, her eyes watching the woods. After a while she finally deduced it was probably nothing and she was just getting jumpy. She took a few moments, wary as she went to grab a few more things from her knapsack before she relaxed and went back to her grooming.

\--

Fasendil sighed internally as he leaned against the birch tree, cursing himself for nearly getting caught. He knew he should have just approached when he first saw movement in the water but when he recognized the dragonborn and then her utter absorption into what she was doing it made him stop and he found himself watching her like some sort of naughty teenage mer peering into a bathhouse. He had seen her naked enough from how many times she did take over his bed but her bathing was different.

He looked behind the tree, watching her rub some sort of lotion into her skin, her hands moving over her breasts and he flushed. Women were so curiously different when they bathed. He, like his men, would just quickly go in and out making sure to get the layers of dirt and blood off and nothing more. He learned from his father and the legion when they traveled not to emphasize on long baths since an enemy could be anywhere but for the dragonborn, it didn't seem to be a problem. He didn't know if it was because she was so confident in her abilities if something attacked or if it was out of love for the water but whatever it was, it was enticing. The way she moved made him stare again and he watched as she went under them back up, drops cascading from her hair.

She was taking her time, washing her neck and shoulders and she leaned back, her legs moving out of the water as if for him to see. They were a delicate tanned color, no visible scars from where he was and she disappeared for a second under the dark lake before reappearing, stretching making him flush. Her flesh looked soft even from his spot and he dearly remembered why he had let her indulge her needs on him. It was improper for a Legate to engage in such ways with a citizen - especially when on duty as he technically was - but by Mara's mercy the way she moved was making it hard not to think of anything else. Her hands ran over her body, the slight bubbles from the water were sticking to her curves and he pressed his lips together tight.

It was if she sensed this and she turned around, the front of her body being exposed making him flush. Her breasts swayed in the water, her red hair shining in the sun and she was graceful as she washed herself, the pumice rock in her hands not leaving her skin a harsh, sore red before it was tossed to the shore and she sunk down, moving farther away and turning as she lazed in the water. He stepped forward to see her more and he snapped a twig making him halt. Her head whipped around and he flattened himself against the tree again, silently cursing himself on being such a pervert and a terrible sneak at the same time when she called out again.

“Who's there?" she yelled for a second time but he didn't answer. He could almost see her lip arching into an angry sneer. "Whoever is out there - and I know you are! - I hope you’re enjoying what you’re seeing!” she shouted, the water splashing making his heart beat a bit in worry that she was going to come over. It stopped and he waited.

“Does this satisfy you? Will you come out now that you can see me?”

He frowned and looked from the birch tree wondering what she was going on about. He turned a deep red as he stared at her; she was almost fully out of the water exposing herself to the surroundings with her hands on her hips and a cross expression on her face. Water was dripping off her body, the sun making her skin shine and he went back behind the tree, embarrassed for her. He couldn’t believe she would so brazenly expose herself like that especially when she suspected someone was watching. What if it was an enemy or a damned noblemen? He found himself rubbing his temples, his face hot at the mere thought.

He briefly wondered if she knew it was him but the chances were slim otherwise she would have called his name. For her to be so bold without a thought started to worry him; anyone could go and take advantage of her like that and she had nothing but her flimsy magic to help. He turned back, trying to get the nerve to go to her when she was gone. He looked around, trying to see where she went when he realized she was laying on the shore.

It looked as if she was sun tanning and he contemplated going to her, maybe making up some excuse as if he had stumbled across her coming back from Falkreath to their camp - which wasn't exactly a lie - when there was a slight moan from her body. He frowned, looking down and he could see her hands moving over her chest.

She was touching herself, stroking her breasts then down to her stomach and he turned red, watching her. He had never seen her do such a thing – he had heard of her appetite though and this was not unusual - but still. He was glued to his spot as her hand rubbed her right breast, her legs moving so her thighs pressed together for a moment and they spread as her hand went down, her moans increasing.

He went back against the birch, looking around as she started making lewd noises and he felt himself stir. Of course he did, she was a naked girl, one whose body he had tasted, and he had his desires like any other bloody mer. He recalled some of the contours of her body, the taste of her sex and lips, how much she would clench when prompted and he sighed as he started to get roused. Her moans from the shore were getting louder, the sounds driving straight into his cock and he felt himself shake. “I… I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried.

He couldn’t take it and he moved from his spot, his eyes locking on her, how her back arched against the sand and her fingers moving rapidly against herself. Divines above and below, there was nothing sexier than a woman getting herself off. She arched more, her eyes closed and mouth open in a silent scream and he nearly slipped as he came down the hill towards her, tired of this nonsense. Her eyes opened, weary and she blinked in shock seeing him before she moved.

“Fasendil?” she spat and he flushed, sliding down the hill to her side, his boots leaving trails in the soil. “Gods damn you, Fasendil! Why didn’t you come out sooner?!”

“Would it have made a difference?!” he breathed out, grabbing desperately at her as he started getting his armor off. She gladly helped, ripping at his belt.

“Yes! I would have made you eat me out you damn pervert! What were you doing?” she ripped at the strings on his loincloth, grabbing his cock with an almost neediness that made him choke. “Gods, you’re hard.”

“You think?” he hissed and she panted, stroking him before shoving him back, climbing on top of him. “Alla!”

“Oh, shut up! You’re on bottom you nosy, perverted Altmer!” she said and she spit on her hand, reaching down to stroke him again before she steadied him, aligning his cock with her entrance. She sunk down, his teeth gritting at how easily she could take him and she breathed out in happiness, her fingers pulling at his collar. “Fasendil-!”

He panted as he felt her clench around him, pulsing, her hips rolling a bit and he let her do as she wished, his hands grabbing her waist. She didn’t waste any time, bucking down on him and she pushed him to the soil starting to ride him, biting her lip as she did.

“You… stupid Altmer-!” she gasped, her thrusts shallow to tease him and he grit his teeth harder, his eyes meeting hers. “S…So… Y-You feel so good!”

“Alla,” he breathed out and she licked her lips looking to him. “Please.”

“What? Yeah, right,” she said softly, her lips meeting his and she began thrusting down harder, taking his length in as much as she could in her position. He moved his hips, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him and they fell into a rhythm with her desperately kissing him, her body still wet making his hands slip and touch more of her skin than he usually did.

“Bring your knees up!” she commanded and he did, her body sinking against his more and she pushed off him, her hands on his chest as she tried controlling their thrusts from on top. She panted, moaning for a moment. “Gods, Fasendil! Fuck me!”

He didn’t say anything, his hands grabbing her hips and he did as she asked; he couldn’t fit in entirely but it was enough. She arched her back and dragged her nails over his chest. “Fasendil!”

He kicked the ground, forcing her onto her back and he pushed her legs apart more, slamming into her. She cried out, pausing for a second before rolling her hips with him taking him with ease as she always did. She was one of the first that ever could that wasn’t his own race and it drove him mad with desire that she could. He went deep, making sure she felt it and she clenched around him to encourage his dominance. He pushed his tongue into her mouth in response, getting her dirty, leaves and sand sticking to her back and she thrashed, her thrusts moving in time with him.

Gods, he missed fucking a girl. He looked down at her, how she really was a girl underneath him and he groaned. He had to have at least fifty years or more on her and yet she was panting his name without caring. It made him thrust into her a little harder than before.

“Fasendil!” she begged as she bucked up to him, her fingers moving over his thrusting cock to pet herself lightly as she was starting to build up to her orgasm. He groaned even louder, his rough hands moving over her soft body.

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, nipping at her neck. Her nails dug into his skin as she began arching, her moans coming out loud and high.

“Fasendil, for fuck’s sake, hurry up and come inside me!”

He grit his teeth, his forehead hitting her shoulder. His orgasm was still building, his want to come slowly creeping in himself but he knew he couldn’t do it inside her. “I… can’t…” he panted. “I’d get you…”

“Fasendil, you idiot, there are potions for that! Come inside me!” she snapped, her clenching joining her thrusting making him nearly forget himself. He refused still, pounding her into the dirt, ignoring how his own knees were becoming stained and muddy when she forced his head up to suck on his ear. He jerked.

“Alla!”

“Do it, Legate!” she snapped, her tongue moving up, teasing the tip of his ear and he groaned.

“F-Fuck it!” he growled under his breath. He pinned her down, her eyes wild as he did and he made sure she felt it as he came, pushing himself roughly into her, his body shaking as he did. She shouted in response, squirming against him in desperation and her nails dragged over his bare skin, her legs trapping him so she could milk him for all he had.

“Alla, f-for the gods-!” she kissed him making him shut up. She jerked her hips, her clenching controlled and she finally released him allowing him to fall back slightly, his hands struggling to brace himself against the sand, his knees now stained with mud and his palms dirty.

“You pervert,” she panted, her body falling down on the shore as she slung an arm over her eyes. “Doing such a thing to a civilian.”

He stared at her. “M-Me? You asked-!”

“Oh, shut up Fasendil, I’m teasing you,” she snorted, letting out a long sigh. “Gods, you’re still bigger than I remember. Feels like… I’m being stretched beyond what I can stand.” He flushed, beginning to pull out but she stopped him. “I didn’t say move.”

He sighed, his breathing coming back to normal. “Alla, what are you doing out here?”

“Nothing. What are you doing out here?”

He pursed his lips. “Nothing.”

She smiled rather slyly, laying back without pressing it and they remained quiet until she moved off him, her voice hissing as she did. He certainly missed the loss of her around him and her legs seemed to clench in response. “Do you always spy on bathing girls?”

He flushed deeply. “I didn’t mean to. I saw movement in the water and I thought… I was going to come and see you,” he muttered. She chuckled and struggled to grab her knapsack, digging into it to grab a potion. “What’s that?”

“Never you mind,” she said as she downed it. “Although, it is good to see you again Legate. Even if it is under unusual circumstances.”

He nodded and pulled his armor back up on his body, snapping his belt into place. She continued to relax on the ground, a slight glow in her cheeks and he found himself regretting his actions. “Listen, Alla, I’m sorry I just came down and-”

“Don’t be,” she cut in. “I needed it. I haven’t had a good fuck from an Altmer in a while.”

He frowned. “I thought you were with an Altmer in Winterhold?”

She shook her head. “College has me doing stupid errands for a bit, testing my magic. I haven’t seen Nelacar in weeks. Not that it matters, he’s on some weird schedule for some experiment he’s doing. Between you and Markarth, I haven’t had anything.” He nodded, clipping on some of his straps and she turned on him. “What are you doing?” He looked to her and she elaborated. “Are you scouting or just taking a walk?”

“Taking a walk,” he said and she smiled, placing the bottle down as she tucked her hair back over her ear.

“Care for another fuck? I can’t imagine you’ve been getting a lot lately either.”

“That’s none of your business,” he muttered. “And I can’t. I need to get back to my men.”

“Do you?” she asked, raising her leg to place her foot on his shoulder. He looked down at her getting a good view of her body which he could see he had taken and she spread herself more making him blush. “I do think you owe me for watching me like some dirty old Altmer.”

He stared at her but swallowed as desire began filling him again. “You do, do you?”

“Yes,” she said in a more commanding tone, reaching down to stroke herself so he could hear it, her fingers glistening when they moved up to her lips. “Legate Fasendil.”

“You’re really a dirty girl, you know that?” he said and she shrugged.

“Someone in this province has to be to your… superior race.”


	21. Call it What You Want (Ancano/Mirabelle)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I have a specific voyeuristic setup in mind--M!Altmer consensually fucking someone (M or F) of one of the teenyraces (so Bosmer or Breton), and epic dick in teenybody causes some abdomen bulge. This is witnessed by a third party who has never seen such a thing before and is discovering it's incredibly hot. Them's the basics. More specifically...
> 
> *whistles Foster the People* Okay, this.. this was... ahaha. This was just great. I wrote Mirabelle and Ancano together as a crakship because I wasn't a fan of the Breton race. And then I started shipping them so fucking hard it hurt and this is what started it. Ah, I'm glad. I love those two together still.

"Come on!" she encouraged him, sneaking past Enthir’s room and quietly looking down the opening in the second floor to the hall below, trying hard not to laugh as she did. There seemed to still be no one inside the Hall of Attainment still and she giggled, standing at the top of the stairs encouraging Onmund to follow. He sighed and begrudgingly came up behind her, holding the Alto wine bottles in his hands.

"Alla, we shouldn't," he protested. "If Ancano comes back..."

"Oh come on, Onmund! Everyone here hates him!" she said with a giggle, holding up the bottles of mead she had grabbed. "A little framing never hurt anyone!"

He scowled. "Framing others hurts people all the time!"

She paused. "Yeah but this is Ancano, a Thalmor agent! Come off it!" she snuck down the stairs towards his room, trying to be quiet as she did but the bottles clinking against each other combined with her own muffled chuckling over the thoughts of his face when he saw his bed made it impossible. She heard Onmund hiss at her so be quiet and she bit her tongue. Slowly they entered the Thalmor Agent’s dark little room – or old storage unit to be more precise – and she started placing the bottles on his bed in a particular manner. Onmund merely sat all the Alto Wine on a hay bale and she scowled at him.

“No! Make it look like he stole them!” she snapped. “Like this!” She proceeded to hide some under his bed, slipping them just out of view behind a few barrels and inside his chest. Onmund sighed and attempted but he made no effort to disguise what they did. She ended up brushing him off, placing the bottles strategically herself and she had to cover her mouth as more bubbles of laughter came up.

Onmund scowled at her. “This is stupid!”

“Oh, be quiet!” she cut back. “Honestly, for a Nord you really have no sense of adventure!”

“Y-Yes I do!” he protested and she turned, ready to fight him on the matter when the sounds of the door to the hall being opened distracted them. They panicked, rushing out of Ancano’s room and Alla immediately crouched, sneaking alongside the focus point of energy in the middle of the room, Onmund right behind her.

In strode Ancano, rubbing his temples as he did and Alla immediately covered her mouth, watching. She felt Onmund push her and they circled the focus point as Ancano did and when they were near the entry, she grabbed Onmund and pulled him into her room, both sticking to the sides of the stone wall. She had minimal view of his room making her mutter and try to see better but Onmund held her back.

“We’re going to get caught!” he said in a desperate voice and she furrowed her brows at him, pushing him away from her. She heard a loud sigh come from Ancano’s room and she strained to see him. The Thalmor was pulling a wine bottle out from underneath his bed and she almost let out a laugh right there, his face priceless as he looked at it with a hidden fury as if he knew someone was pranking him.

She had to bury herself against Onmund to keep from laughing out loud and she heard the sound of bottles being tossed, angry muttering coming from the Thalmor. She peeked, seeing him knocking the bottles away from under his bed and the door to the hall opened making her and Onmund pause. The sounds of it shutting came and soft footfall on the stones; Alla held her breath, watching for who came in and she noticed that Ancano did too. He came out to stand at the entry to his room, waiting and the Master Wizard Mirabelle strode by, aiming for Ancano. Alla looked to Onmund almost gleefully but he in turn didn't look too pleased and she ended up scowling, ignoring him.

Mirabelle came to stop in front of the Thalmor, her small frame dwarfed by him and Alla found herself watching, biting her lip. Mirabelle disliked Ancano more than anyone and if she saw the extra bottles... It was like a perfect scenario; she waited with baited breath. The two of them merely stared at each other.

Alla watched from her hiding place, completely entranced. Why weren’t they doing anything?

"Were you followed in?" he asked and she shook her head, pulling out a potion and handing it to him.

"No, but this needs to be quick. I cannot be away from my duties for long and you know that," she said and he said nothing as he pulled the cork off. Alla frowned, trying to see but Mirabelle was blocking what they were doing. She found herself straining, curious and she finally decided to move to the entry way – a better position – to watch, sneaking skillfully around the corner to the dark archway and ignoring the tugging on her robes as she did.

She got into position, able to see clearly now straight to his room and the two seemed distracted with each other to notice she had snuck out. A moment later, Onmund came crouching out and Alla felt her heart stop. She shook her head, making the motion he should stay but he briskly crawled to her, his eyes wide and his stress showing. He pulled her into the corner, making the motion that he was going to kill her and she hit him for almost giving them up.

A shifting made them freeze and they waited, not daring to breath. No one came forward or shouted their names and after a second she heard a strained breath. She tried to peek, Onmund preventing her for a second before a pinch to his side stopped him. She peered around the corner and felt her breath hitch as she stared to where the master wizard and Thalmor agent had been.

Mirabelle was on her knees in front of him, both standing in the dark of his room but she could make them out. Her head was moving against his lower torso and Alla flushed; she didn’t need a Masters degree to figure out what they were doing.

She heard Onmund above her let out a shocked cry and she turned, ready to kick him when she saw his face. He was staring at them, horrified. She in turn lowered her fist and touched his arm making him jerk. He went back to hiding, mortified and she pursed her lips, finding herself still watching. How was this happening?

Out of everyone at the college, Mirabelle was the one who was most hostile to Ancano. She had heard them having barbed words more than a few times while she made her way around the college so to see her before her knees obviously sucking him off didn’t make sense. It couldn’t just be an act, Mirabelle would never betray the College.

Alla found herself more distressed and she heard a moan escape the Thalmor agent making her shudder. That was something she never wanted to hear.

“A-Alla,” Onmund whispered from near her and she looked to him. He pointed at the door, indicating they should leave and she shook her head. They would hear them. That damned door had a squeak that could alert the Jarl of Markarth and she wasn’t in the mood to get caught by either of them.

He looked at her distressed and before she could come up with a plan, Ancano let out a moan. “Good girl,” he said and Mirabelle let out a gasp making both the students shudder. Onmund covered his ears and Alla moved to standing beside him trying not to wretch.

“Ancano,” Mirabelle said in a breathless voice. “I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, yes, fine,” he replied and Alla was almost ready to leave, not wanting to know how much further this would go when the master wizard let out a small cry. It sounded like she was… enjoying it. She had to see, moving to look around the corner and she stared as Mirabelle grabbed her robes, holding them around her chest while Ancano reached between her legs. He was pouring something from the potion bottle Mirabelle had given him earlier onto his hands and she couldn’t tear her eyes away as his gloved fingers went inside the Breton.

Mirabelle whimpered and he stood up, towering over her and Alla felt her cheeks become red. She could hear his fingers sliding deep into her from the entry, the slick noises mixing with Mirabelle’s pants and after a second he drew away. He turned the Breton around, grabbing her hips as he did and she was shocked to see how aroused Mirabelle looked. The Breton was panting, licking her lips and bending slightly to spread her legs and the damned Thalmor seemed to be enjoying it.

“Don’t,” Alla found herself whispering. “Don’t, Ancano, don’t.”

“Ancano,” Mirabelle said almost as a response. “Please. Just do it.”

The Thalmor agent leaned down, kissing the top of her head before he spread her thighs and thrust in with a single stroke. Alla covered her mouth to stop herself from shouting and Mirabelle let out a scream, her back arching to the point where it seemed like it would break. She let out a moan that sounded like it belonged to someone else, not their proper master wizard and Alla moved back into the shadows, feeling her heart racing.

She looked to Onmund who seemed catatonic. He was staring at the entry door, his pupils dilating and Mirabelle let out another cry making him close his eyes and cover his ears more. Alla felt her chest rising and falling and the two of them stood awkwardly in the entrance listening to their elder get fucked by the most hated man on campus.

Her moaning didn’t help. “Harder! Harder!” she shouted at him and Alla found her gaze moving, staring at the two of them from her half-hidden position. She was bent over his bed now, her forehead pressed against it as her legs spread wide for him and Alla watched in morbid fascination.

Ancano was huge. She couldn’t even believe he could fit into the Breton’s body but after watching him she realized he wasn’t going in fully. She felt her own sex pulse, throbbing at watching the lewd scene and she licked her lips, moving until she was against the stone wall, closer but still hidden to see. Onmund stirred next to her but she ignored him. She needed to see this, to understand further why Mirabelle was letting Ancano do such a thing.

She suspected his cock was most of the reason.

“A-Ancano!” she panted and he grabbed her by the waist, pushing her onto the bed into a dog-style position. She rode him, more than happy to as her expression showed and Alla bit her lip as she watched. There was no bit of kindness in his actions yet Mirabelle was loving it. It made her ache.

She felt Onmund against her, now looking too and they watched as Mirabelle slowly lost her ability to remain on all fours, her arms buckling until Ancano shifted her and they were on their side. Onmund covered his mouth, his eyes still trained on them and Alla pulled at his sleeve as she watched.

"O-Oh my... Akatosh above, look!" she hissed and he shook his head, his hand clasped tight over his mouth now but still watching as if he was unable to look away. "Oh gods! I can see him fucking her! Look!"

The master wizard let out a strangled cry, her robes riding up around her bust and Ancano gripped her hips hard, thrusting at an angle where there was a bulge in her lower body. Mirabelle's eyes widened and she let out a cry, bucking back. He angrily kissed her neck, his tongue flat against her jaw and she reached down to hold her leg up, evidentially exciting him more. Alla watched in fascination as the bulge would disappear as he drew back but when he drove forward, it was if it was going to open her up.

She let out a cry. "A-Ancano! A-Ah! Ancano, yes! More!"

He shoved two fingers in her mouth, silencing her screams but her moans could still be heard escaping from her throat, the bed scraping against the floor. His other hand reached down to grab her leg, holding it for her and she twisted in her spot, trying to keep herself at the angle as he fucked her but her grip was loosening. 

The sounds of it could be heard across the room and Alla felt her own body start throbbing hard. Watching the horrible Altmer and the Master Wizard, how Mirabelle thrust back against him, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull, her panting and sucking on his fingers echoing in the hall… She reached down and pressed a hand against her abdomen and she felt Onmund stir from beside her. He had finally stopped watching, back in the shadows against the stone wall and his eyes were set forward but his mouth was still covered, a bulge in his robes.

Alla pursed her lips but went back to watching. Ancano roughly pressed the little Breton down on his bed, his strokes long and hard and she could almost swear she felt them inside herself, his movements that powerful. He began to hiss and Mirabelle struggled from below but her spreading legs and moans indicated she was in no pain. He thrust in once, held himself while digging into her hips, then rapidly pounded her to the point where she screamed before he pulled away, sticky white come spilling from her thighs. Alla felt herself pant.

Mirabelle let out a loud groan, her hair sticking to her face as she pressed her cheek against the blankets on his bed. He said nothing, only watching her before he slid off and tucked himself back in. He straightened his robes, slicked back his hair and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Mirabelle only shuddered and rolled slightly, come still leaking from her body.

"A... Ancano," she breathed out and he grabbed her robes, pulling them down before he collected her in his arms. He strode out into the hall, looking around and Alla pulled back, flattening herself against Onmund who looked distressed. She hissed at him and put a finger to her lips, ignoring his erection against her leg. She listened as Ancano moved against the stone, his footsteps hitting the stairs and they became distant as he carried Mirabelle up them, possibly to her own room. 

Alla took the opportunity to leave her spot, rushing to her room to grab a drink of water and she froze when she heard the footsteps coming back. She prayed for Onmund, remained hidden herself but Ancano merely strode past, not looking into the rooms and after a minute the door to the Hall was opened and shut loudly. She rushed back to where the Nord Mage had been and found him curled in the dark corner, his entire face a deep shade of crimson and his body bent, hiding his erection.

She said nothing, awkwardly patting his shoulder before she left, not wishing to discuss what they had seen. The moans kept echoing in her head, thoughts of Ancano's cock being pushed against the Breton's stomach and she rushed out of the college grounds, running down to the crumbling city of Winterhold to the Frozen Hearth. She ignored the greetings, the look from Dagur as she passed by him to the cellar and she found Enthir, Orthorn and Nelacar down in it, a pair of dice on the table and some cards. She ran to Nelacar, forcing herself into his lap making him stiffen.

"Alla!" he spat. "W-What is the meaning of this!? This... This improper-"

"Fuck me," she breathed out and he stopped talking, looking to her in shock. "Fuck me, Nelacar, by the gods, fuck me. Fuck me with your damned Altmer cock."

Enthir dropped his cards. "Ho, ho, ho. I like where this is going!" Orthorn merely flushed from his seat.

Nelacar continued to gape at her. "W-What? What do you mean?!"

She grabbed him from under his robes and he jerked a bit, not expecting her to do such a thing. "A bulge," she babbled. "Fuck me so I feel it in my stomach. I know how big you are and I know you can do it. So please, fuck me. Fuck me! Until you can see it when you're fucking me!" she begged. "Own me. Use me. Do it until I cannot get up. Stain me with your Altmer come, Nelacar!"

He said nothing and looked to his friends. Enthir gave him a thumbs up and Orthorn shook his head. She forced him to look back at her, grinding her hips against him making him hiss. "Nelacar!"

"A-Alright, just... calm down," he said, his cheeks flushing. "I'll... do whatever you want."


	22. Control (F!DB/Nelacar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I keep hoping it will come up but since it hasn't I need to request it: Nelacar being completely ravished by the Dragonborn.
> 
> This was the last Alla fic I ever wrote. I really did want to write more scenes of her and the Thalmor but I decided to end it with Nelacar, the Altmer I had her initially end up with before I just decided to sadistically kill her over and over. More on why later.

She slammed the door behind her as she rushed in, throwing herself against him before he could even react. “A-Alla!”

“Nelacar, you idiot!” she spat, slamming him down on his bed, her fingers frantic as she grabbed at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back!?” 

She grabbed his belt, undoing it with an expert flick of her wrist and the poor Altmer under her began to flush, his hands moving to stop her but she was quicker and his robes were ripped up revealing his loincloth beneath. She spared no time in attaching her mouth to him, hungrily sucking and he went stiff, his cheeks turning as red as the embers in a fire before he finally moved.

“A-Alla, for Stendarr’s sake! Slow down! A-Ah! Wait!” She slowed but only a little, her mouth clamped to the side of his cock, saliva soaking into the thread of his loincloth as she impatiently waited and he took in a breath, his discomfort obvious. “Gods, girl… Will you let me at least prepare before you… you…”

She pulled off. “Prepare? What for?” she ripped the strings apart, tossing his underwear away making him gape and she gave him a long lick from the base of his shaft up to the crown of his cock. “Your dick is getting hard. What do you need to prepare for?”

He flushed at her. “F-For your lewdness! A-And the mood! A-And Anyone could just walk in!”

“Doubtful,” she rolled her eyes and she went back down, licking innocently at his slit making his breath catch. She nearly purred, savouring the taste before she held him steady and went down fully, taking him right to the base causing his entire body to shiver.

“A-Alla!”

She moaned, the sensation going straight through him making her smirk when he bucked and she began to hastily move up and down, relaxing her throat as she took him all. She didn’t give him a chance to continue his stupid complaining as her need and desire for him was making her shake and she moved to holding him steady with one hand as she reached between her legs and started to finger herself.

She flicked her eyes up to see how he was reacting and he was staring at her, struggling to control himself as the blush was spreading across his face towards his ears and she grinned, going down on him with a few tosses of her head to get him really coated, her saliva dripping down his damned cock. He let out a strained cry and she moaned in return, her fingers working herself hard.

She stopped touching herself when she felt him starting to buck, his right hand reaching down to grab at the pelts on his bed as he shook and she pulled off making him almost groan but he caught it in his throat. She shoved him down, taking the lead as she crawled on top but instead of entering, she merely slid his length against her causing him to pant.

“Stendarr’s mercy, Alla,” he said in a hoarse voice and she grinned down at him.

“Stendarr has nothing to do with this, my darling,” she cooed. “And neither does preparation. Now tell me that you want it and I might just let you come.”

He looked up at her, shocked by her words and she raised a brow, her fingers moving to lay flat on his chest as she rolled her hips, rubbing herself against him knowing full well what it was doing to his body. She could restrain herself, just barely, but his stamina was low and he was always weak to her motions. He swallowed but his eyes became hard, his jaw set tight making her blink in surprise.

“Alla, I am not begging.”

She stopped moving on him, feeling him pulse from beneath and her nails began to dig into his chest making him hiss. “Why not?”

He growled a bit. “I-It’s degrading!”

“That’s what makes it so great,” she said with a small smirk but she maintained her stance, frozen against him as he started to shift uncomfortably. “Beg, Nelacar. I want to hear how much you want me.”

“Alla, you’re being-”

“Beg!” she cut in, dragging her nails down his chest making him jerk and he bucked against her causing her to moan a bit. She held her own, keeping her grip on him but she moved off him a little so they no longer touched, his cock dripping against his robes and her own body shaking with the pent-up desire she had since Enthir had told her the damned mage had come back. He stared at her causing her to glare right back and he said nothing for a moment before he swallowed.

“Alla, I need it,” he said quietly and she was on him in an instant in gratefulness. If she had to fight with him to say a few words, she would have killed him and she attacked his neck, marking his golden skin with hot kisses that made him nearly cry out and she adjusted him below so she could take him, her legs pressing against his sides a bit when she did.

It wasn’t their usual slow style like how he liked but more her fast-paced, desperate, needy fucking that she craved with the Legate and the Thalmor Agents she came across. The mage under her gripped his bed tight, gasping at her roughness and she rode him, panting while she did. She just needed to get off, to have him get off inside her and let out those horrid groans he hated that were filled with shame and pleasure that drove her mad.

He twisted below her, letting out a ‘fuck!’ once in a while making her pant in shock but it didn’t last long and she was soon grabbing her chest, squeezing herself as her back began to arch and she could feel her orgasm building inside. He grabbed her hips, helping her thrust down and she came with a silent cry, her body tense, clenching around his damned cock before she erratically bucked against him, whimpering in utter pleasure as she did. He tried to control her, his own breathing ragged and full of need but she moved against him how she wished forcing him to get off only once she was done and he caught her when she fell against him.

He groaned and she merely let out a sarcastic laugh. “You… asshole…”

“M-Me?” he spat and she buried herself against his chest, his cock still pulsing slightly inside her and her legs hurting from the position she was in. “I’m not the one who-!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?!” she cut in making him stop. “Nelacar! I was getting worried about you!” He flushed and she found herself leaning up to stare down at him, the sweat on her skin now cooling a bit making her shiver. “Nelacar, what are you doing? You’re not… You’re not doing something dangerous, are you?”

He looked up to her, his eyes studying her for a moment making her bit her lip in worry before he reached up and touched her, running his hand over her cheek making her lean into it. “No. No, I’m not. Alla, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone this long. I’ve just had trouble getting what I need.”

“Which is what? Why won’t you tell me?” she said and he withdrew a bit. “You’re not doing necromancy again, are you?”

“No!” he said immediately making her relax. “It’s… It’s just experiments. I don’t want to say in case it fails. There’s no point talking about something if it won’t work.”

“Yes, there is,” she said and he sighed but she dropped it and leaned back down, burying herself against him, her hips moving slightly making him grunt. “Just tell me when you’re back, okay? So I’m not worrying or spending my nights here alone.”

She felt him shift uncomfortably. “F-Fine. But don’t just… come in here and ravish me. I prefer to spend my time with you intimately. Not in such a degrading way.”

She looked up at him, giving him a look which made him blush. “Degrading? What about that was degrading?”

He glared at her. “Making me beg is…”

“Hot as the fires in oblivion?” she smirked and he shoved her off making her yelp.

“Y-You’re so classless!”

“That’s what makes you love me,” she teased and she tugged at him, pulling him down for a kiss which he eventually accepted, her smaller body being pulled against his which made her giggle. “Nelacar. My darling, stick-in-the-mud Altmer.”

He furrowed his brows at her. “Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “My darling, stick-in-the-mud lover.”


	23. Drop Dead (F!DB/Ancano)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: So, Ancano does some snooping, and find F!PC is in possession (or "finds that F!PC is in possession of" -ie planting and blackmailing) of some contraband something or another, and needs 'convincing' to not tell. She can be dragonborn, or not. Any human/elven race (leaning towards Nord, but whatever suits A!A). It can be con, noncon, dubcon. Dont care. Just AncanoxF!PC sexytimes.
> 
> Whoops. To be fair, it allowed noncon/dubcon so. Warning ahead of time.

“No, no, you don’t understand!” Alla protested as she crossed the bridge back towards the college, Enthir sighing as he walked beside her. “You need more than one outfit! An outfit for when you go to the market-”

“We live near Winterhold!” he cut in. “There is no market! There’s barely a supply store!”

She shot him a look. “If you travelled, Enthir, you would know the major cities in Skyrim have markets. And when you go to them, you don’t walk up in your full adventuring gear. You need casual clothes,” she plucked at her mage robes. “Pretty clothes, not like this. You need an outfit for it.”

“You’re such a freak,” he said but he smiled as he did. She shoved him in irritation. “So, what, you want me to find you some clothes?”

“Please?” she asked. “You know I’m good for it. I mean, I’d have to travel to Riften to get the cash… But that shouldn’t take long.”

He stopped at the gates and she paused with him, turning to see him as the wind began picking up. He was silent, staring at the wet stone slab before he sighed. “Look, you do me a favor and I’ll get you how many pretty dresses you want.”

She waited. “Yes?”

“I need you to pick me up some Skooma.”

She immediately gave him a look of disappointment. “Enthir… don’t get involved in that!”

He scowled at her. “Look, I just need a few bottle on me to sell when adventurers wander through town! I can get top prices for them!” She continued giving him a sad look and he rolled his eyes. “I’m not taking it, freshman! It’s purely for profit!”

“Enthir, I don’t want you getting hurt,” she said softly, moving to tug on his sleeves. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want some skooma addled maniac attacking you!”

He ruffled her hair. “They won’t, I promise. And if you remember, I’m a better mage than you. If I get into trouble I can take them.”

She slapped his hand away and ruffled his Mohawk making him kick at her. “I’m the dragonborn, Enthir! My job is to protect people and that includes you, you turd!” she snapped. “And if I may point out, my destruction level magic is catching up to you!”

He grabbed her neck, his fist roughly messing up her hair and she screamed at him, trying to kick him but he slipped away. She ran to the courtyard, grabbing a ball of snow and she threw it at him. He easily dodged it, sticking out his tongue. “Your magic may be at a high level but your aim is shit!”

“Enthir!” she shouted, chasing him around the courtyard and he laughed. She finally stopped after a short time, heaving as her stamina had seemed to have depleted and he came up to her, grabbing some snow and shoving it down the back of her robes. She screamed, punching him and they scuffled before they held each other, breathing hard.

“Ass.”

“Skeever face,” he snorted and they let go, Enthir leaning against a column while she braced herself on her knees. They were quiet, the sounds of the wind howling through the college grounds blowing loose snow into the air before she leaned up.

“…Fine. I’ll get you some Skooma to sell but only two bottles, do you hear me?! And that will be it! I won’t get you anymore!”

He smiled at her. “I promise to find you the prettiest dress in all of Skyrim then.”

She sighed and moved to go to the Hall of Attainment, rubbing her shoulder as she did. He joined her side. “You realize this means I have to miss classes for a week? Just to go down to Riften to get this for you!”

“I’ll give you my old notes,” he said. She sighed but smiled at him, opening the large doors.

“Might as well go pack.”

“And I’ll write a letter to my contacts,” he said, moving to the stairs.

“See you in a week,” she shoved him and he elbowed her in the ribs.

“Get going, freshman.”

 

 

She came back in the middle of a snowstorm, the path leading to the college almost completely hidden from the amount of snow but she managed to make it past, struggling as she nearly slipped to her death. Her knapsack was full of goods she had brought from Riften along with some loose swords she got when a few bandits thought they could attack but the most important items, Enthir’s damn skooma was tightly wrapped at the bottom in linens.

She cursed her friend for them, though, as the looks she got when she bought them made her more than uncomfortable. She only managed to get one from the Khajiit caravans, Ahkari laughing when she made a scene over why she needed it but the other was a challenge. She had to resort to going to a gambling den and dealing with gropes and disgusting comments to get it. The memory of it made her grit her teeth, her wish to hit Enthir rising and she entered the college grounds, the glow from the focus points her only light.

She made her way to the Hall of Attainment, the magelights that were by its doors dwindling from the snow and she called upon the spell, lighting them again before entering. The Hall was quiet and dark, most of the candles in the rooms doused and she wandered to her room, dropping the knapsack by the foot of her bed before lighting some candles and going to explore. Enthir wasn’t in his room and neither were any of her classmates.

She found herself in the pantry, eating a boiled crème treat while re-arranging the food so it was more aesthetically pleasing. She hated how when Tolfdir brought the food and drink and tossed all over the table. Nothing bothered her more and she was putting the cabbages together when the door downstairs slammed. She stopped, surprised and swallowed the rest of her treat, moving to the stairs. She came down, hoping to see one of her friends when a dark figure shifted in her room.

Her blood froze. “A-Ancano!” she shouted and the Thalmor agent turned, his golden eyes locking on her while his face remained calm and she sneered at him. “Get out of my room!”

He held up her knapsack and her heart stopped before she shot forward, grabbing it to try and wretch it from his grip. He maintained his hold, giving her an angry look. “My, my, my. What do we have here? A mage sneaking in Skooma? Don’t think that I didn’t see those bottles at the bottom!”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” she spat. “You have no right to come into my room! And give that back! It’s not mine!”

“Why was it in your bag then?” he hissed, advancing on her and she continued to try and wrench her knapsack from her.

“Why are you going through my things?” she shot right back, avoiding his question. She would never sell out her friend not even if it meant her life. Ancano finally let go of her bag and she fell back, hitting her dresser making her wince. He was upon her, looking down and she cursed the damned Thalmor. “Get out!”

“I am allowed to see matters that may be to the benefit or hindrance of the college!”

She gaped at him. “What a load of horse shit! My personal things are not the colleges concern and certainty not yours!”

“I think skooma being brought into the college is!” he snapped back. “Don’t try and hide it you wretched little Nord!”

“I’m an Imperial!” she shouted, getting tired of him and his presence and she shoved past him, holding the bag to her chest. She tossed it into her lockable safe, turning on him once she was done and he produced from his pocket one of the bottles. She turned bright red and made for him, her hands scrambling to grab it and he electrocuted her.

She fell back with a cry. The bastard electrocuted her! 

“Don’t get hasty, Imperial,” he mocked. “You brought an illegal substance into this college and despite your mouthy complaints, I would have found this eventually.” She glared at him and he looked down at her, the bottle being twirled in his hands. “You know, you don’t look like a Skooma addict. And your mention of it not being yours doesn’t seem like a lie. Who is this for? That Khajiit?”

“Fuck you,” she spat, struggling to stand on shaking legs. “Give that back!”

His eyes flashed and he stopped playing with it before he held it still, showing her, then dropping it in his pocket. “This is being confiscated to show the Arch-Mage. Regardless if it’s yours, you should be punished for ever bringing this onto the campus.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “Don’t.”

“Furthermore,” he said, ignoring her. “I shall see that you and that Khajiit or that Dunmer girl or whoever you bought this for is expelled as well.”

“You can’t!” she retained her ability to stand and advanced on him, desperate. “You can’t do that!”

“I am the advisor to the Arch-Mage, you little brat! I can do as if wish!” he snapped. “And your illegal activities and your little friends are going to be punished!”

“They’re not involved with that!” she took to shouting again. “How dare you! You don’t even know what it’s for! It could be for experimenting!”

“You said it wasn’t yours before!” he shot right back. “So it is obviously for one of your little friends and what they plan to do with it – which I know that you know – is going to be between the Arch-mage and them. So get out of my way.”

Her anger reached a boiling point and she found herself slapping him as hard as she could, her fury coursing through her veins. He looked taken aback, holding his face and his eyes flashed at her, his expression turning cold.

“How dare you touch me,” he said in an eerily calm voice and she was grabbing at his robes, trying to get into his pocket to get the Skooma. He snatched her wrists, twisting them painfully and she fell to her knees before him, shouting and cursing. She tried kicking him, hitting him, whatever just to inflict some sort of pain on the insufferable bastard and hopefully get the stupid bottle of Skooma back when he lifted her off the ground and slammed her hard into her wardrobe knocking her senseless.

She went slack in his hands, her vision clouding and he pulled her back to do it again, the studs that lined the wood cracking against her skull. She let out a gasp of pain, choking for a second and he loomed over her.

“You little bitch,” he hissed and she jerked in response. “Now you’re really going to get it!”

“Give… me back… my bottle…” she coughed out and he grabbed her throat, squeezing to the point where her eyes rolled back, a bright light filling her vision as if beckoning her to go towards it but he let go. She collapsed on the ground, retching for a second then swallowing the air around her, coughing as she did. He stood above her watching silently. Once she pushed herself up on her hands he grabbed her hair and yanked her up onto her knees.

She hissed and spit at the pain and he pushed her head against him. It was only when his grip lessened did she realize what was going on. She was right at level with his lower body.

“I’ll give you back your bottle,” he said in a cold tone from above. “If you convince me to.”

“Y… You’re sick!” she said in a gravelly voice, her throat now sore. He fisted her hair and pulled back hard making her cry out.

“Don’t think I want you, you disgusting girl! You are way below my level of superiority! I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself!”

She panted from beneath him, both becoming silent but there was doubt in her heart that was mixing with the pain in her body.

“What’s the catch,” she said quietly. He said nothing and she found herself breathing out, trying to calm herself. He lessened his grip on her hair but he reached down and pulled his robes up a bit. She looked away in embarrassment.

“Get started.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Slowly she turned back, her hands shaking as she did and he lifted up his robes showing her the thin cloth that covered him. She stared at it, biting her lip but still did not move. He slapped her and she hissed at him but got the message. She reached out and hooked her fingers on the thin fabric and pulled down.

She avoided looking at it, her cheeks flushing red and when she caught his eye, the grin on his face one of amusement and smugness she found herself scowling. “You’re not that impressive.”

“Please. Your lies aren’t needed,” he said and she felt her ears burn. She stared at it again, feeling her heart pound and she hated to admit it – absolutely hated it – but he was large, even flaccid. Nelacar wasn’t even the length he was and he could barely fit in her at the best of times. She found herself pressing her thighs together at the thought. Hopefully the bastard would only want oral.

“Get started!” he commanded and she closed her eyes, supressing her rage. She shifted closer to him, grabbing his cock and he let some sparks fly from his fingertips. “Don’t get cute. Hurt me and I’ll flay the flesh from your body.”

She exhaled. “Whatever.”

She moved his dick, holding it to her lips and she took a moment to psyche herself before taking it in. It was salty, warm and gross and she tried not to gag. He grabbed her by the hair again, forcing her to take more in and she hissed as he started growing in her mouth. The skin around his tip pulled back and he became even larger much to her displeasure. She could barely fit him and the way he kept pushing she was forced to accommodate him, his cock moving to almost hitting the back of her throat.

She pulled back before she threw up, gasping as she did and he tried to push her down again but she dug her nails into his thigh. “Do you want me to throw up on your dick? Because I will!”

“You better not you stupid brat,” he growled from above but he lessened his grip. She sighed in relief and moved to licking the side of his dick, not wishing to have the thing fully in her mouth again. She gripped his cock, moving her hand up and down it as she lapped at the tip. He stirred from above. “You’ve done this quite the few times, haven’t you?”

“So what?” she growled, her lips leaving him to give him a hand job, her ears tinting pink. How dare he insult her for giving oral to others before him. It occurred to her that maybe he wanted that, to strip her of her innocence and she shuddered internally, her tongue teasing his slit. What a bastard.

He took in a breath and she stepped up her teasing, her mouth running up and down him in tune with her left hand as her right hand’s fingertips rubbed the precum leaking from him. He maintained a calm exterior, his expression still cold from above but she could feel his muscles twitch, see his chest inhale and taste the come wishing to leak from him.

She felt herself giving him a smug look. Looked like the mighty Thalmor asshole wasn’t as high and controlled as she thought. She got the urge to make him bend to her, to regret thinking he could dominate her and use her and she went back to swallowing him. She sucked on his tip before relaxing her throat and moving up and down it as much as she could.

She thanked the gods she had practice with Nelacar beforehand – and to an extent, the handsome Legate of Riften. Her being able to control her thrusts and how far she could take him made it better and she bobbed up and down on him, smirking inwardly as he thrust a bit into her from it.

She pulled away, licking her lips and waited. “What do you want me to do, Ancano?”

His golden eyes moved down to staring at her, the corner of his lip twitching a bit. She chuckled inwardly. “Do you want me to let you come?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Let me?”

She lazily moved a hand up and down him, confident. “Yes, let you.”

He slapped her so hard she let out a cry and released him. She saw stars for a moment and her hair was being grabbed making her yelp. He forced his cock in her mouth, her throat tightening but when he kept going she had to mentally make herself relax, her hands pressing against his thighs. He thrust in, hitting the back of her throat and she choked.

“You do not have any control in this situation, you smart little brat!” he snapped. “I own you right now, may I remind you? You want that bottle back, you pleasure me until I am satisfied!”

She flushed, wishing to bite down on him. She hated him, the smart bastard. She hated him. How she wanted to burn him and watch his bones crumble. The thought was pressed out of her mind as he thrust in and she had to concentrate on not throwing up as he used her mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to come and he held her steady as he did making her swallow. She shuddered, trying her best not to consume it but a large amount still went down her throat. She spat, come spilling from her lips and he let go of her, stepping back to adjust himself while she coughed. She wiped the excess on the floor, refusing to look up as she did.

She hated him.

“Get up,” he commanded and she growled but slowly stood, her eyes locked on his robes. He roughly grabbed her, ripping off her belt and undoing her tunic causing her clothes to become loose against her. He pulled them, tearing them off her and she found herself squeaking, covering herself as he stripped her. She was left in her undergarments and he stared at her.

“Disappointing.”

“Fuck you!” she spat. He forced her to look at him, his golden eyes flashing with amusement and she sneered at him. He smiled and forced her to turn around, ripping off the last of her clothes as he did. She flushed deeply and tried turning back around.

“D-Don’t be so rough!”

“I don’t care what you say,” he snapped and she was forced onto the bed, spread for him as he looked at her from behind. She finally had enough, turning to fight back but he easily avoided her punch. The consequence was for him to grab her wrists, nearly snapping them and she let out a cry. “Try that again, I encourage you to!”

She felt her breath hitch as he pressed against her body, her head hitting his chest from behind. She twisted more, trying to break free but his grip was tight on her wrists. She was helpless and she began to shake as she felt the tip of him hit her sex. “A-Ancano! Ancano, wait! I’m not ready! You’ll break me!”

“Good,” he said from above her and he began forcing himself in. She clenched, letting out a high cry but he kept going forward, not caring how it was affecting her. She was being stretched, his stupid cock filling her, forcing her legs to part to accommodate him and he hit the opening of her womb making her cry out. He shifted from behind her, letting go of one of her hands and she grabbed the headboard immediately to dig her nails into it.

“Hm. Shame,” he casually commented. “This is the problem with you human races. Your bodies can’t handle a superior specimen.”

She wanted to reply with some witty remark but she ended up moaning instead, her breath coming out in pants. She missed Nelacar. He was gentle with her and didn’t make her feel so dirty like this. Even Fasendil, though large in length, didn’t use her in such a way when he was desperate. She shifted, whimpering against his cock and her head hung down. She hated the Thalmor.

He grabbed her hips, pulling back and he gave an experimental thrust making her cry out. “Yes, moan like the bitch in heat that you are!”

“F-Fuck you!” she cried, shamed as another moan tore from her throat as he pulled back and he let go of her other wrist allowing her to grip the headboard more. He then mounted her, as if she was an animal and began pounding down making her scream. She lost her grip, falling to the bed and he grabbed her hair, pulling so she was uncomfortable as he rode her.

She begged the gods to make it stop. “A-Ancano!”

He said nothing from above but his hands roamed her body. He roughly cupped her breast, gripped her hips or slapped her ass while he was inside. She cried out, pulling at the sheets and some point in his relentless fucking she began thrusting back. She was sure her pussy would be broken after this so she might as well enjoy it, as twisted as that was.

He laughed at her over it. “Just as I suspected… of you humans. So proud until a true Mer shows you… what you’re missing!”

She panted and groaned in return, her hips meeting his thrusts back. He pulled her head back using her hair, looking down at her and she moaned when their eyes met. “Imperial slut.”

“F-Fuck me!”

He released her hair, taking to pushing her shoulders against the bed and she felt the head of his cock hit her womb causing her to cry out in pain; it was if her stomach was going to burst. She fisted the blankets below her, spreading her legs as her cheek pressed against her pillow and her eyes went to behind her, out the arched stone door. There was a figure behind them and her mind immediately flew back into a working mode, her body thrashing.

Ancano slowed his thrusts and finally looked behind his shoulder. Onmund was standing behind them, paralyzed, with Brelyna motionless at his side. They were gaping, speechless and Alla let out a cry of frustration, burying her head into her pillow. Ancano chuckled. “Are you two worms enjoying watching?”

“What…” Brelyna started. “Ancano-? Alla? Alla-?!”

“Alla!” Onmund finally cried out and she covered her ears, her pussy gripping Ancano’s cock tight, her chest ready to burst from embarrassment. Ancano laughed a bit deeper.

“Your friend here can’t speak right now,” he smiled at them. “She’s too busy learning her place!”

“Get off of her!” Onmund yelled, moving to try and stop him and electricity shot through Alla’s body making her screech. Her mind turned to sap in her head and she slumped, still feeling Ancano inside her pulsing. His voice drifted from above her.

“Come any closer and I’ll turn her into ash!” she heard him threaten. “Your damned friend accepted this on her own whim so I suggest you back off before making assumptions.”

Brelyna’s voice echoed from behind him. “Alla?! Alla, surely you didn’t consent!”

The gears in her head slowly moved, her mind coming back to her through the pain and she lifted her head off her damp pillow, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She found herself looking up to Ancano, him giving her a smug look and she grit her teeth. Fucking bastard.

“I… want this,” she said quietly and Ancano smiled, grabbing her hair to pull her up off the bed, her back arching until she was against him.

“I don’t think they heard. Why not say it again?”

She clenched her jaw, not wanting to keep playing his game but he pulled out a bit and thrust up making her tense and cry out, his cock filling her again. “Do you want your little bottle?”

“I WANT THIS!” she shouted, Ancano chuckling from behind and he began his relentless fucking again, her back arching hard against him and her hands frantically gripping whatever she could find. She heard her friends behind her, sounding disappointed and she clenched her eyes shut, riding Ancano, trying hard to be someplace else. She sobbed, shamed, her body reacting to the stupid Thalmor and she started losing it, her thrusts back becoming wild and less rhythmic. 

She tried thinking of someone else, of Fasendil or Nelacar, gods above, even that Thalmor agent in Markarth who acted half-decent to her – anything, anyone, imagining them behind her but Ancano’s hissing in her ear, his damned smell and rough touches made it impossible.

“Say my name, you Imperial bitch!”

She shook her head in protest, nearly weeping as one of his hands teased at her clit, purposely not touching where she was badly aching.

“Say it!”

“A-Ancano!” she whimpered. “A-Ancano! Ancano!”

“Louder!”

“ANCANO!” she shouted, hating herself for it, begging the gods above not to have let anyone hear her. “A-Ah! Ancano, don’t stop!”

He touched her, his fingers abusing her clit and she came with a shout, riding him hard, her mind flooded with incomprehensible thoughts as she did. She didn’t want this, to come against a Thalmor especially someone like him but he made her and she shamed herself with it, panting his name and squeezing him with her insides. Her breath became shallow, her body aching and he didn’t take long after, hitting her as hard as he could causing her to choke, his teeth sinking into her shoulder.

“P-Pull out!” she begged and he snorted. She thrashed, trying to get away but he filled her, his seed soiling her insides and she let out a desperate cry, a sob breaking from her throat. He came inside. She shook violently as he finally pulled out and shoved her against her bed, making a noise of disgust as he did.

“You should feel honored to have me come in a pig like you,” he sneered, grabbing her undergarments from off the floor to wipe himself off. She held her pillow, refusing to look at him and he tossed her underwear at her. “I suppose you want your little Skooma bottle back, don’t you?”

“You… are a piece of shit!” she panted. He merely pulled the bottle from his pocket and tossed it at her. She flinched as it hit her shoulder, falling onto the blankets beside her.

“Whatever. I’m still going to inform the Arch-mage his students are smuggling illegal substances in… but I suppose for your service, I’ll leave out your name,” he said as he began to leave. “Have fun with your friends, now, you hear?”

She shuddered, covering her eyes and she hear him walk away leaving her alone in her room. She struggled to get up, grabbing the Skooma bottle as she did and she pulled on her robes, leaving her underwear off. She never wanted to touch the pair again and she dropped it behind her bed, moving to grab her knapsack from her chest.

She closed her eyes, calming herself as her emotions wanted to break from her body and she shoved the Skooma into the knapsack, taking a few other items before she shouldered the bag.

She briefly looked into Brelyna and Onmund’s room, wanting to explain but they weren’t to be found. She limped out of the Hall finding herself back in the snowstorm and Brelyna and Onmund were not outside either. She covered her face, trying hard to keep her emotions down but a sob broke out and she fled to Winterhold, rushing to the Inn. Dagur was cleaning the counter, his weary eyes looking up as she entered and she avoided his eyes as she went into Nelacar’s room.

“He’s downstairs,” Dagur said quietly and she stopped, staring at the tiles before turning to look at him. He stopped immediately. “…Is something wrong? Alla?”

She shook her head knowing her eyes were probably red and moved to the cellar stairs, not in the mood to speak. She found Nelacar and Enthir at the very back, sorting through spell books and a variety of robes and she approached them, her heart pounding as she did. Enthir briefly looked up and gave her a smile. “My little Freshman! Great timing! I hope you brought… well. Our agreement!”

Nelacar raised his head at her name and he frowned as he saw her. “Alla? Alla, what’s wrong?”

She couldn’t help the sob that broke from her throat and Enthir stopped, immediately on her. “Alla?! Alla, what happened?! What’s the matter?!”

The two came to her side and she buried herself against the Altmer mage, pulling at his robes to hide her face. He held her quietly, stroking her hair and Enthir rubbed her back. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said and she remained in Nelacar’s arms, repressing the experience.


	24. Untrust (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: We all have that one moment (or maybe a few) where something in the game makes us see red. Maybe it's the horrible injustice in Markarth, or Rolff Stone-Fist wandering drunkenly around the Gray Quarter, or Delphine ordering you to kill Paarthurnax. Maybe it's Arondil the creepy necromancer. Maybe it's some stupid guard asking whether you fetch the Companions' mead. Whatever it is, give me that moment. And then give me your reaction of choice, if you had a well of power and untapped dragon shouts at your disposal.
> 
> You know, when I see this prompt all I think about is the mini-wank that happened with it and how I did mentally side with the one person getting shut down. Like, not even kidding. What was this actually about again? I don't remember.

She stood, shaking, her eyes on the coffin and her fingers moved to touch it but she held back, moving to the entrance instead as a wave of emotion hit her. She rushed through the city, making her way to the stables and before anyone could say anything she was on her horse, snapping the reins as she took off down the road. She rode through the night, not stopping for anything along the road and by the time she passed Whiterun her horse was barely keeping up a trot.

She exchanged it for a carriage ride, paying double for the fare. “Are you sure miss?” the driver asking and she jumped in the back, her eyes wild as she stared at him.

“Just. Go.”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

He brought her to the entrance of Windhelm, her robes flying behind her as she ran down the path. It was only when she got to the Palace of the Kings did a soldier try and stop her. She shoved past him, kicking open the door to rush in. “ULFRIC STORMCLOAK!”

The entire building seemed to shake and soldiers came running in after her, weapons drawn. The Jarl of Windhelm looked up from his throne, his eyes focusing on her and slowly he rose. “Dragonborn… What gives you right to enter my keep?”

“You fucking bastard!” she cried, shoving past his steward who tried to peacefully stop her. “You fucking BASTARD! How could you?! How goddamn could you?!”

He said nothing, giving her a look and from the entrance where the generals met his right hand man came out, his weapon drawn. She snarled, a Thu’um ready in her throat if he came near her and he sheathed his weapon. “What does this whelp want?”

“You fucking bastards!” she shouted again, her anger starting to make her shake. “How could you kill him!? You had no right!”

“Kill who?” Ulfric growled and she made her way towards him, not afraid of his guards as she did. He narrowed his eyes. “One more step and an arrow will pierce your leg.”

“I could kill you right now, you pathetic excuse for a Jarl!” she spat. “You had no right to murder Ondolemar!”

Ulfric said nothing, looking to Galmer and the General snorted. “That Thalmor in Markarth? You come here roaring over that?!”

“You had no right!” she shouted at him, her emotions breaking and she felt her chest heave, a sob coming out. She wiped her eyes angrily, glaring at him and the General merely let out a laugh.

“He was a Thalmor.”

“He was my friend!” she yelled back, stomping towards him when an arrow flew by nearly missing her. She stopped, looking to the soldiers and the one who let the arrow fly pulled out another from his quiver. She spat in rage, moving towards them and they backed up, all weapons pointing at her. She relented, only for how outnumbered she was and she let out another sob, covering her mouth.

The Jarl said nothing, moving back to his seat and he pointed to Galmer who went to her. She nearly punched him in the head, fighting as he grabbed her and he shoved her towards the door, indicating his men should move aside. “Go back to the college, Dragonborn. We’ll not entertain your fit any longer.”

She turned on him. “I’ll kill you,” she hissed. “The Imperials will swarm this city and I will behead the both of you for what you have done! Mark my words!”

He sneered. “If that is the side you are taking then we will gladly help send you to Oblivion where that Thalmor Agent lurks. Now leave before I get tired of this.”

She left in a flurry of angry tears, her rage not subsiding. It was only on the way back to Winterhold did she begin to weep. Her actions of a peace treaty lead to the death of a friend and dear lover. She didn’t know how to forgive herself or if she even deserved it.


	25. So There I Was (F!DB/Ancarion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Just a horny F!DB playing with herself in the wilderness. Then, something comes and help her to get over the edge. "It" can be a werewolf, a Stormcloack, a Thalmor, a hunter, a passing by jarl, a companion, a dragon, a wild dremora... I don't care as long as he observes her for a moment then joins her.
> 
> Okay, I didn't mean to get this headcanon that Ancarion was massive in terms of dick size, it just happened when I was thinking about what he was other than a fucking nerd. I get 'Nerd with the Massive Cock' is sort of stereotypical but it's just fun to make it Ancarion, of all people.

She lay back against the sand, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she rubbed herself more, her eyes on the stars before she closed them and bit down on the collar of her robes. She tried hard to focus on something to excite her, a threesome between herself, the Legate of Riften and one of the Altmer soldiers she had seen. Her best friend, maybe, between her legs helping her or even a stranger at a one of the taverns taking her against the wall. The more she tried the harder it became and she let out a noise of frustration, stopping to kick as the sand.

She needed to get laid. She cursed Nelacar to the planes of oblivion, his damned holier than thou attitude as of late the reason for her sexual frustration and she turned onto her stomach, digging her fingers into the sand. She tried again, rubbing, her legs spreading and her collar being bit but it did nothing to help her, her desire eating away at her, hungry and dissatisfied. She hit her head against the sand.

“Fucking Nelacar!” she shouted, punching the ground before she dug into her bag, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. It was nearly empty and she bit her lip but her need was too great and she emptied the rest on her hand. With her fingers slick she tried again, the wetness helping in making her twitch and quiver but her body was not satisfied with her own workings.

She grabbed the empty bottle, hoping it would help but its cold texture only discouraged her and she dropped it, whimpering as she did. She was tired of forcing it, of being alone and she looked to the trees and snow behind her, quiet as the sea lapped the sand. She hit her head against it again, sighing. “Fucking Nelacar… You couldn’t just listen to reason… Now I’m out here alone.”

A twig snapped as if it was waiting for her to say it and she got to her knees, her hands itching as she watched the forest. Either the weight of snow on a branch had made it collapse or something was watching her. She prayed it wasn’t one of those dirty men who turned into a monstrous bear form; she hated them and their looks at her from a distant as if she was a venison cut waiting for them to dig in.

There was another crack, signs of movement and she readied herself, staring. “Come out!” she shouted, her hands wishing to shoot fireballs at the trees but she restrained herself. “Come out or I’ll hunt you down!”

A large figure emerged from the trees, their robes black and their arms crossed, still keeping a distance. She stared, knowing she had seen them before when they slowly came forward making her flush.

“What… What are you doing?” she asked, trying to calm herself down but she throbbed from below, her legs pressing together tight. Ancarion sighed, rubbing his temple before crossing his arms again.

“I should say the same for you, dragonborn,” he remarked and she flushed.

“I asked first, Thalmor,” she said, crossing her arms and he sighed, coming closer to her until she could see his golden eyes perfectly, his frame still slim underneath his robes. “Ancarion.”

He said nothing for a moment, his golden eyes sweeping up her and she felt herself become a little more self-aware, smoothing her hair back. “We’re out of supplies. I was going to go see if those idiot Nords up in their pathetic village had anything but I damned well lost the path,” he shrugged. “Now what are you doing?”

She flushed, her ears burning as she shifted in her spot. He stared at her. “Really, Alla, speak up. What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?” She drummed her fingers against her leg, pondering it when he came to stand over her. She flushed even more looking up at him and he stared her down. 

She hated the Thalmor, she really did especially when her first encounter with one went so sour, but Ancarion was reasonable. He struck an easy deal with her that would find both of them profit and she had, on more than one occasion, sought him out when she was bored and wandering the island. He wasn’t anything like the mer whose name he almost mirrored; he was intelligent but not boastful about it and he readily admitted to being a bit daft when it came to matters that weren’t about the Dominion or weaponry. It was refreshing to do business with him when he openly laid his cards on the table and let her bargain. 

She contemplated her options.

He wasn’t half bad looking either; sometimes she thought of him when she was preying on some hapless wizard back in Skyrim, his face young and build strong but slim. She found herself sighing, her legs pressing together to feel herself pulse and slowly she grabbed the hem of her robes and pulled up making him stiffen.

“I need release,” she said in an almost breathless voice. He gaped at her and she felt herself practically throb under his gaze on her making her desire only increase. “So…”

He swallowed. “Yes, that’s what I thought you were doing…”

She immediately glared at him, shocked. “Y-You were watching me?!” she nearly shouted and he frowned. “Y-You pervert!”

“Me? A pervert!?” he spat. “I’m not the one sitting on an open beach brazenly rubbing one off!”

“I’m not, obviously!” she cut in. “O-Otherwise I already would have come and had been sleeping and we wouldn’t be having this conversation-! Oh gods,” she buried her face in her hands, embarrassed and he shifted uncomfortably above her. “Ancarion.”

“W-What?”

She exhaled. “Please. Help me.”

She could feel him bristle with anxiety at her words, his weight shifting between his feet, his hands firm at his side. She looked up to him, biting her lip and he looked away, blushing. “That… is a highly improper…”

“I’ll craft you any Stalhrim you want,” she cut in. “For free.”

His eyebrows raised.

“Just help me get some release!” she begged, tugging on his robes which sent his eyes locking back on hers. “I’m bloody desperate!”

His fingers nervously tapped against his side and he crossed his arms, uncrossing them after a second as he fought internally with what to do. She shifted, getting on her knees before him and she waited, panting slightly as she did, her desire more than obvious. He opened his mouth, about to speak when he stopped, fidgeting more. “L-Let me get this straight. I get a free Stalhrim item just for… helping you… release?”

“Yes,” she begged. He still hesitated. “Ancarion, please! You don’t have to fuck me, just help me get off! I’m desperate!”

His eyes moved up and down her and she squirmed in her spot, feeling herself becoming unbearably frustrated, her body pulsing and throbbing just for a touch by someone that wasn’t herself. He pursed his lips. “S-So, what? Just… lick you or something?”

She flushed at his words. “Y-You can just use your fingers… but your tongue…”

“No, no,” he waved her off. “If I can just use my fingers, fine. Lay down.”

“Thank the gods,” she cried, falling onto the sand and she pulled her robes up, exposing herself. He said nothing but a shade of red seemed to highlight his cheeks. “Just… rub. Or something. Do anything, Ancarion, gods, before I die!”

“I doubt you’ll die,” he scoffed as he knelt before her, slowly pulling off his glove before his fingertips lightly caressed her. She jerked, crying out. “By the divines, you’re wet… You honestly couldn’t do this yourself?!”

“No!” she nearly sobbed as her hips twitched. “Ancarion! Just do it or forget our deal!”

“Alright! Calm yourself you… you improper girl!” he chastised. “Stop moving so much!”

She tried but her body was aching badly, her mind becoming scrambled. His fingers touched her again, their smoothness making her breath catch and he slowly rubbed, sloppy and inexperienced. She twisted below, not believing her bad luck and she grabbed his wrist, leaning up as she did. He waited, glaring at her.

“Put your fingers... like this,” she ordered, forcing his index and middle finger together. “Rub up and down, to start, l-like this.” She reached down, showing him with her own fingers, her hips moving a bit as she did. “Just… do that. For a bit.”

“F-Fine.”

She fell back against the sand as he imitated her, her breath catching in her throat as he brushed over her clit. He rubbed in a steady motion, his concentration purely on what he was doing and she closed her eyes, distracting herself. She focused on the steady rhythm, convincing herself in her mind that it could be enough and her thoughts drifted away from her, her hips bucking to the inexperienced Thalmor’s fingers.

“H-Harder,” she whispered to him, her own hand going down to join, just to rub her clit a bit as he obviously didn’t know about it. He pulled back making her kick his body and he slapped her leg but continued, hissing as he did. He got back into a rhythm, working with her own and she rode his fingers, hers moving in incomplete circles making her start to arch. “A-Ancarion! More!”

He hesitated but did as she asked. “More!” she begged, her thighs beginning to shake. “A-Ancarion! Ancarion, gods, more!”

“I am! I-I… I don’t know what you want!” he spat, continuing his rubbing but she barely paid attention to his words. His fingers on her were all that mattered and she bit the collar of her robes again, whimpering endlessly as she finally started to creep up to the release she needed. It was like she was running up a staircase, the steady rhythm of his fingers pushing her on and she began breathing harder, focusing on the ‘top’; reaching that goal that she needed to hit and she began to thrash, the sand being kicked under her feet.

“Gods!” she begged. “Don’t stop!” She began crying out bucking violently and her fingers stroked her clit, putting just enough pressure to make herself arch even more. He maintained his movements, shifting in the sand as she tried to get away, to get more, get whatever and she finally – finally – came against his rhythm, his fingers the ones sending her over the edge.

She let out a high cry, her hands moving to grab at her clothing, pulling as her body took over and she heard him let out a strained breath, his fingers still milking her. She grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand against her until it became painful and she knocked him away.

Her body slumped on the sand, her breathing ragged and laboured but it subsided as did the pain morphing into that familiar aftermath she loved. She moaned, inhaling the scent of the wet sand, the air that was filled with distant smoke and pine trees and she felt the Thalmor’s smooth fingers on her, spreading her legs making her look down. His brows were fixed, looking at her and she sighed.

“Enjoying the view?” He flushed at her words, scowling at her for a second. She merely raised herself up on her forearms, exhausted, warm, and watched him as his eyes flicked back down studying her again. He was looking at her as if he had never seen a woman’s well-spent sex and she cocked her head. “Ancarion, have you ever fucked someone?”

“Of course I have,” he muttered and she raised a brow. He growled at her. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Your sloppy fingers, your curious boyish staring,” she remarked and he dug his nails into her skin making her yelp. “Stop that! Let go of me!”

“I’ll have you know, unlike you uncouth and idiot Nords-”

“I’m an Imperial!” she cut right back and he scoffed, dropping her legs.

“Whatever! You bloody humans! We Thalmor, unlike you, don’t just rush into it. We take our time, courting, making sure we are compatible with our desired one,” he said and she snorted.

“Boring.”

“Oh shut up! Our women are respected and bred with perfect genetics because they pick superior mates! They don’t sour the pool, unlike your kind. So just because I haven’t touched a women in such a brazen and disgusting way doesn’t mean you can make assumptions!” he shot right back and Alla stared at him, her eyes flickering down to his robes which seemed tight on his body. She realized he was leaning forward.

“So then why are you obviously hiding your erection,” she pointed out. “If I’m so disgusting for wanting release which is natural.”

He turned a shade of crimson she had never seen on an Altmer before and he let go of her, standing up but still trying to hide himself as he did. “I don’t have time for this. There, I got you off, I expect a Stalhrim sword by tomorrow. Get on it!”

“Ancarion,” she said in a steady voice and he looked down at her, his lips pressed thinly together. “By the gods, sit back down and get your dick out. And stop being offended at everything.”

He did nothing, his breath being exhaled through gritting teeth and she waited until he relented and knelt back down, obviously having weighted the consequences of walking back with a hard-on. She moved closer to him, pulling up his robes and she reached underneath, her fingers drawing across the start of his trousers. He stiffened and she gave him a look but said nothing, gently running her hand down until she found what she wanted. She gripped him, her hand sliding along his hardening shaft and she frowned as she kept going, her cheeks beginning to flush.

“Ancarion,” she said softly.

“What?”

“How big are you?” she asked and he fidgeted making her pause, trying to do the mathematics to figure it out.

“Why?” he muttered and she licked her lips.

“Just… curious.”

“I-I don’t know, it’s not like I care,” he said and she drew her hand down until she could feel his balls, rubbing them to make him grit his teeth and silence himself.

“You should,” she said, slipping her other hand under his robes to stroke his tip through his pants, still working the base of his shaft. “You’re very impressive, even for an Altmer.” She complimented and he turned a bit pink, looking down at the sand in embarrassment. She smiled and pulled his robes up more, sticking her head under them making him grab her.

“What are you doing?!”

“What do you think?” she snapped, her lips joining her hands. She sucked at him through the thin fabric of his pants, pulling them down after she tired of the less-than-direct contact and the sight of him under his loincloth made her smile, the thing barely concealing him cock. She licked his bare tip causing him to grip her harshly and she giggled in response, her hands pulling at the strings so she could get at him properly.

He pulled his robes up around his waist, staring down at her with laboured breaths and she smiled. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin? You really do act like one who has never had fun like this.”

“S-Shut up!” he spat, his eyes locked on her and she took him, holding his impressive cock steady as she licked her lips, making sure her breath hit him. He shivered and she grinned.

“Just for you, Ancarion, I’ll try and swallow you up. I doubt I can but… here’s to trying,” she shrugged and his fingers dug into her arms.

“What are you talking about?” he said but she ignored him, licking the tip of his cock before she fit it into her mouth. Slowly she drew down, relaxing her throat as she did and his nails pierced her skin, his stomach becoming taunt and his chest rising as she swallowed around him. She inched down his length, shivering herself at how much it stretched her mouth and she had to pause when the back of her throat was hit. She still was gripping the base of his cock so she wasn’t nearly down enough but she knew it was probably more than he had ever had.

Judging by how he was gripping her, she could have probably even gambled on it and won. She purposely swallowed, her tongue rubbing his shaft and he hissed from above, his thighs shaking. She pulled off him, making sure it was wet and sloppy as she did and she sat back on her knees licking her lips. He stared at her, flushing.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, nearly panting and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you want me to continue, dear Thalmor virgin or should I let you walk back to your men like that?” she said and he pursed his lips. “That’s what I thought.”

He slapped his hand on her forehead before she could continue. “This warrants another sword.”

“Fine,” she agreed, knocking him back as her hands moved to work him, one rubbing the tip while the other pumped his shaft. “But no more questioning me. It kills the mood.”

“…F…Fine,” he agreed and she slipped the crown of his cock in her mouth again, licking at his slit until he was shaking and precum began to leak. She tasted it, the small beads that formed, and her fingers worked his shaft encouraging him to relax and enjoy himself. One hand slipped down, palming his balls and he jerked, the tip being pulled from her mouth. She caught it again using her lips and she sucked, nipping at the foreskin, the head turning a bright red.

She pulled off, admiring the color and she began licking it as if she was trying to lick the icing off a sweetroll. She did it innocently, short little laps with barely anything but the tip of her tongue before she switched to bathing him, dragging up from the base to his slit using the entire area of her tongue to do it. She looked up at him once as she did, making sure she kept her eye contact as she started at his balls and moved to tasting more beads of precum that formed and she could see how hard of a time he was having controlling himself.

He eventually brought a hand up, biting his fist and he flushed deep, his body shaking as she took him back into her hot mouth, moving down his shaft again to swallow him.

She pulled up and her right hand worked him, expertly jerking him off. “What do you want, Ancarion? For me to swallow or do you want to give me a nice bath?”

“W-What?” he said, his voice shaking and she smiled at him. “Gods, Alla, I-I don’t know… Just… make it quick!”

“You have to come?” she asked, pouting and he broke their gaze, biting his knuckle hard as he tried controlling himself. “Ancarion, we just got started.”

“Shut up!” he spat, his hand clasping his face as he struggled to contain himself. “S-Shut up, shut up...” She watched his free hand let go of her to paw at the sand, his chest rising and falling more rapidly and she added both hands, moving them up and down his cock in long strokes, encouraging him to release.

“Tell me, Ancarion,” she said and he panted, closing his eyes. “Do you want me to swallow your seed? Or have it stick to my lips?”

“I-I don’t know!” he stressed, his back arching slightly and she decided to stop teasing him. She stopped her hand job, clasping the base of his cock and she went down on him, bobbing her head with the same intensity, taking in all that she could. He bucked, his voice coming out in desperate pants, his body tensing and she reached between his legs, cupping his balls. One gentle squeeze did it.

“D-Divines!” he cried, his fingers dragging across the sand, hips bucking and she struggled to hold him steady, swallowing what she could. It was bitter, as it always was, but somehow Ancarion’s seemed thicker than what she was used to. She drank it, her tongue teasing his slit as she did to make sure she got it all and she wondered if it was from him not indulging himself. As if his prudish nature somehow made him much more… delicious.

She pulled off him, covering her mouth and he fell back, the sand around them being disturbed. She swallowed, gasping after she was done and he sat on the ground panting, the sounds of the surf behind them slowly drowning them out, a slight breeze crossing the shore making Alla shiver. She looked to Ancarion who was rubbing his temples and she caught his golden eyes looking at her. “Feel better?” 

He scowled at her until she opened her mouth, showing she had swallowed. He turned a deep crimson, pulling his robes around him and he looked away, embarrassed. “Y-You were the one wanting to get off, m-may I remind you, not me.”

“And now we both have,” she pointed out and he sighed. “Although… I am curious on if I could fit you…”

“No,” he said, standing up weakly, pulling himself together as he did. She chuckled. “Asshole.”

“You liked it,” she mocked making him flush and she got up herself, brushing off the sand from her robes. “Want me to accompany you back?”

“No,” he said again. She pressed her fingers together.

“Are any of your boys free?”

“You leave them be!” he snapped and she gave him a predatory smile. “Don’t distract my soldiers!”

“Do they get a break?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Because what someone does on their break is not up to you, it’s up to them.”

He glared at her as if he wished her to melt making her try hard not to laugh, eventually having to bite her lip. “I’m leaving.”

“Ancarion,” she called after him and he stopped, turning slightly to listen to her. “…Did you at least like it? Me swallowing?” She could see him shift, almost sheepishly before continuing to walk. She grinned. “Can I come and suck you off again!?”

“Bring me those swords you Imperial slut!” he yelled back at her making her chuckle. She waited until he had moved back into the woods, eventually seeing him emerge as he walked up a path in the glaciers and she sat back on the sand, running a hand through her hair, licking her lips.

She curled over, slipping her fingers between herself and feeling how she had gotten a bit worked up while servicing him. She rubbed herself, thinking of him, his taste, his smell, his adorable almost-innocent attitude. She gasped, her forehead hitting the sand and she squirmed, her fingers working, her imagination fueling herself.

The breeze hit her, blowing her robes up a bit, exposing what she was doing and she let out a small cry, biting her lip. Yes, that Thalmor Agent could do. He was large, authoritative, and still naïve enough she could teach him how to take charge with a girl. The thought alone sent her over the edge, of training an Altmer – a Thalmor Agent – how to be a dominant lover and she fell back against the sand, panting.

She rolled over, sighing and she looked at the stars above her, how slowly they were fading as daylight was starting to creep over Solstheim. She crawled to her bag, packing her things and slowly got up, heading towards the Skaal village, glowing as she did. She would make three swords, two for Ancarion’s help and one more as a bargaining tool. Maybe she could even convince some of his men to join in.

She licked her lips at the thought; the more the merrier, as they say.


	26. Satisfaction (F!DB/Ancarion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompts: Can be the dragonborn or two NPCs or OCs but yeah, a guy bringing a girl to orgasm from pleasuring her G-spot. I'm sure there's some guy in Skyrim who figured out that one. Extra points for it being someone obscure but it can be anyone.
> 
> All my notes say for this is 'Nerdy little bastard'. Guess who that is for.

She had pulled him away from his ship, desperate for a man as she had none in Raven Rock. He had protested, his soldiers all watching silently as she dragged him down the beach and finally after some time he pulled away. “Alla! T-This is improper! You cannot just take me away from my men! This is-”

She rolled her eyes and turned sharply, grabbing his collar to roughly pull him down into a kiss. He froze, dumbfounded and she pushed her tongue into his mouth, tasting him. He pulled back, turning red as he pressed a hand against his mouth and she smiled. “You’ve been eating sweets, Ancarion.”

He flushed an even deeper red. “T-That’s…”

She smiled and ran her hands down from his neck, feeling the smooth fabric of his robes until her hands rested on his stomach. “Ancarion, please. You need a break and I’m tired from wandering this isle. Don’t try to deny it either,” she cut in when he opened his mouth. “So enjoy it. Relax.”

He said nothing but slowly his shoulders slumped and he didn’t seem like he had a stick up his ass as he usually did. She smiled and rubbed his stomach making him slap her hands way. “Are you eating well? You feel thin.”

“I’m fine,” he flushed. “We have enough supplies to last us a week.”

“How about your other health?” she inquired making him frown. “Have you been jerking off like I told you?”

He turned a bright crimson, his ears tinting pink and she giggled. “Y-You inappropriate girl!”

“It’s a legitimate concern, Ancarion,” she pointed out, her hands reaching down to rub at his cock hidden beneath his robes. He stiffened. “I don’t want you getting plugged up or being ill from you repressing yourself.”

He slapped her hands away, pulling his robes tight over his body. “Is this why you pulled me away? Because I’m going back then!”

She sighed, rubbing at her temples. He was honestly the first mer she had ever met who never wanted to fuck. It was beginning to irritate her and she put her hands down, glaring at him for a second making him shift. “You’re honestly passing up a chance to fuck a girl who is willing? And you deny you’re a virgin still?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’ve slept with a woman before?” he snapped and she stared at him. She crossed her arms, tapping them before a thought occurred.

“Oh, now I see. If I was a man, you’d be interested. Am I right?” he turned almost purple, his eyes blazing and she found herself smiling.

“J-Just because I take my time with w-who I want t-to bed, doesn’t make me-!” his voice broke and she had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing, his anger hysterical. “Y-You rotten little Imperial! I have morals a-and standards! I-I told you, I don’t just f-f-fuck without a thought! I-It means something to me!”

“Yes, I’ve heard your little moral rant before,” she waved him off. “I just don’t believe it.”

“Why!?” he demanded, his face still a deep red, his voice shaking and she sighed.

“Because of this,” she grabbed him again, squeezing his cock and he tensed, bending over a bit as he gasped. A few choice strokes and she could practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. She leaned up, her lips brushing his ear. “Your body never lies, Ancarion. And every time I touch your damned, thick cock it responds. You just repress yourself for some reason.”

“S-Stop it!” he demanded but a shameful moan broke from him when she nipped at his ear, her teeth gently tugging his earlobe. “A-Alla!”

She dropped to her knees, pulling his pants down and her lips met his cock, humming as she tasted him. He grabbed her shoulders, whimpering and panting in desperation and she pulled away, licking her lips. Her eyes met his, his face flushed and hot and she chuckled. “Do you want me to continue?”

He took a long moment, his lips pressed thin but he nodded, shy, and she smiled, going back to him. She loved his honest body; it was one of his better traits. Well, his cock was his best she wasn’t going to lie. She had measured him one night after sneaking on board and he was a hefty ten – nearly eleven when he was aroused – nearly two more than Ondolemar and that bastard Ancano and she could barely fit them. She really did wonder how the Altmer women put up with it.

Though somehow his moral brigade made her think that they didn’t. She still couldn’t imagine him actually taking a woman, even if it was his own kin. She half wondered if it was a prostitute, and a bad experience which made him act so damned repressed when he groaned. She looked up, seeing him struggling with his pleasure, his one hand moving up to cover his mouth and she sighed.

She began swallowing as much as she could, relaxing her throat as she did. Thank the gods she had practiced on Fasendil a few times. She came just short of taking him all and he shivered and dug his nails into her shoulder. “A-Alla! A-A-Alla, b-by the Divines!”

She hummed and he choked on a cry. Slowly she pulled off, making sure she left his cock with a ‘pop’ and he stared at her, flushing like a priest who was being violated by a daedra. She grinned and stroked his cock. “What, my darling little Thalmor?” she purred, her tongue giving his slit a slow lick making him tense. “You’re starting to leak.”

“T-That’s…” he complained, his fingers digging into her shoulder then relaxing before squeezing them again, his mind trying to think and she smiled. She went back down on him, shaking her head as she swallowed and he cried out, nearly doubling over. She stroked him while she went up and down his length, her hand moving to massage his balls and he whined like a young pup, struggling.

He didn’t last long, his stamina still weak and she held the tip in her mouth as she worked him, his body shaking as he came. She gulped it down, making sure she got it all before opening her mouth to show him. He turned a bright red and looked away making her giggle. “See? No matter how many moral parades you go on, Ancarion, I know what you secretly desire. I’ll just never understand why you hide it.”

“I-It’s improper,” he muttered and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s natural,” she pointed out before she sighed. She shifted on the sand, feeling herself sticking to her own panties and her cheek twitched. Sucking him off had more of an effect on her than she realized. He looked down to her but she didn’t say anything, her mind elsewhere on how best to get off.

“Alla?” he asked and she briefly looked to him. She fidgeted. “I suppose I should… repay the favor.”

Her ears twitched at his words and she looked to him, her eyebrow raising. He didn’t look entirely pleased but she could tell there was that boyish curiosity still prevalent in his eyes. She found herself thinking on how to best go about this when a thought whispered in her head. She should teach him.

She sported a wicked grin which made him swallow. “Come here, Ancarion. Sit before me,” she said and he hesitated. “I don’t have all day.”

“F-Fine,” he muttered as he did what she asked. She hiked her robes up, tugging at the strings tied on her hips and he watched as the fabric fell away. She grabbed her panties and stuffed them in her pocket. She knew she’d probably need them later to clean herself up – or him – so she needed them dry. He merely watched, his cheeks rather pink and she reached down to spread herself.

He stared at her, tense. “Look down, Ancarion,” she said and he did. “See right here?” She reached down to her entrance, lightly touching it which made him breathe out, stiff.

“D-Divines.”

“Yes, it’s impressive,” she rolled her eyes as she let go of herself and slung her small satchel around, fetching a thick potion from it. She pulled off the cork, stuffing it back into her satchel and she began to pour it on herself making him stare, blushing. Her fingers went down, rubbing it in and once she was slick enough that she could hear her fingers moving she motioned him making him stare.

“Give me your hand,” she instructed and he did so. She tugged off his glove, rolling his sleeves up and he took it back, pulling off his other to stuff in his back pocket before he pushed up the other sleeve. It wasn’t needed but she didn’t say anything. His skin was a muddy gold, obviously from spending so much time out at sea and she reached out, waiting for him as he gave her his hand back, his fingers warm and she straightened his middle and index finger.

Slowly she took them into her mouth making him stare and she gave him a look for him to silence himself. He merely swallowed, looking away and she coated them with her saliva before letting go and moving them down. He watched, frowning.

She lined the tips with her entrance, hissing at the width but she wasn’t in the mood to train him a single finger at a time. “N-Normally, this is a one finger first before the other deal. B-But I’m not in the mood for that,” she told him, sinking him in. He let out a strained breath and she groaned. “Gods, even your fingers are big.”

He said nothing to her quip and she pushed more until he finally got the hint. She kept her hand on his wrist, however, making him go up until she squeezed and he stared down, his cheeks a deep red at how much he had taken. She exhaled, pulsing around him. “S-Start slow. Then… I’ll have you repay the favor.”

He looked up to her. “S…Start slow?”

She made him move his wrist so that he thrust in and out and he got the hint, sloppy and unsure as he did. She had to guide him again. “Come on, Ancarion, like you own me. Have a bit of confidence.”

He sighed but increased, his now-slick fingers moving inside her and she found herself biting her lip. Gods how she wished it was his dick in her but he was still too uptight for that. She reached down, petting herself as he moved and he stared. He reached with his free hand and she let him take over rubbing at her clit. He was gentle as he did but maddeningly slow. Still, she didn’t complain; it wasn’t like he had much experience and there was only one way he was going to learn.

“More,” she whimpered, one of her hands grabbing her robes to tug as she started moving against him. He tried adding pressure but she stiffened and cried out at the pain so he stopped and did gentle circles making her pant heavily like a dog. He seemed to gain a bit of confidence at making her squirm without her instruction and she found herself losing it a bit as he stroked her.

She felt herself almost come and she hastily grabbed his hands stopping him. He looked to her in confusion. “D-Did… I do something wrong?”

She shook her head, fighting to control herself before she finally sighed. “No. You were doing fine. I just don’t want to come like that,” she said and she pulled his hand off her aching clit. Her mind screamed at her in her head but she knew what she really wanted. “C-Curl your fingers in me, alright?”

He hesitated but did so. She winced as his tips stroked her inner walls but not where she wanted. “M-Move up?” she said, making him reach further and he pressed making her whimper. Still not where she wanted. “F-Feel for like…” How to even describe it. “A-A shelf? Somewhere sort of hard but soft.”

He stared at her and she sighed. She knew it sounded stupid but he didn’t say anything, merely inching up, delving into her. He paused, pulling his fingers back making her look and he added a third finger, stretching her causing her to groan and buck. “G-Good boy,” she drawled and he furrowed his brows at her.

Her legs drew up and he pushed them back down, still searching for what she wanted, curious. It was starting to tickle, his rubbing and stroking and she found herself giggling a bit until he lightly brushed against it making her jerk. “T-There!” she shouted.

He stopped, looking down. He tried again and she nearly screamed, her body thrashing. “T-There! An-Ancarion!”

He immediately began to gently rub, her body twitching under him and she grabbed the hem of her robes, her eyes closing shut tight. He said nothing, stroking her insides but his cheeks were flushed and he shifted awkwardly. She didn’t notice as her stomach was beginning to tighten, her body clenching against him.

She fell back, her cheeks turning red as he rubbed harder, her hips bucking. “A…An… Ancarion!” she begged, opening her eyes to stare between them. “H-Harder! Harder!”

He rubbed in circles, his brows fixed together, his lips pressed tight and a sudden wave hit her making her jerk and cry out, her feet kicking the sand. He held her steady, panting, his fingers still moving and she ached for more. She was going crazy.

“Ancarion! Don’t stop! More! Give me more!” she whined, pulling at her robes so she could twist them as she rode his fingers. He was teasing her to an orgasm, something she never thought he could do, and her legs started shaking. “Almost! K-Keep going!”

He said nothing but his hand shook on her hip, rubbing her insides harder when his hand moved up and she brushed her clit making her cry out, her body coming against him. Her hips bucked as she did, her thoughts exploding and she fell against the sand, pulling at her robes as she shouted his name. She released and he pulled away, his fingers dripping and his eyes on her in shock. 

She whined briefly at the loss but her mind was elsewhere, her toes curling and her nerves on end. It was like she had been shocked but instead of pain she was filled with pleasure, her body aching and her hands twitching in the aftermath. Her hips kept moving, her insides clenching as if she was making sure she got it all out and she collapsed.

He remained in front of her, flushing deep as he caught his breath. He eventually relaxed as she slumped against the sand and they breathed in what sounded like unison until she slowly leaned up, hurting. He was curled over a bit, ashamed and she chewed her lip.

“Are you hard again?” she asked and he nodded, his hands gripping his robes on his knees. She sighed. “Do you want me to suck you off again?”

He shook his head, not meeting her eyes and she frowned. “Ancarion? You can’t go back to the ship like that.”

“I-I know,” he muttered and she pushed herself up so she was sitting, her arms tired and her pussy throbbing now from the aftermath. She could see the sand in front of her was wet and she silently congratulated herself on how far she was able to release. Had to be a record for her.

“What do you want then?” she asked and he said nothing but he tensed. “Do you want to fuck me?”

He shook his head again. “C…Can I rub…” he stuttered and she stared at him before she smiled a bit. She fell back on her forearms, spreading her legs and she motioned him forward. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes and she tried to make him but he refused, ashamed.

“Ancarion, don’t be so shy,” she teased and he growled a bit. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

He said nothing and curled over her, his robes being pulled up so his cock could come in contact with her making her flush at how warm it was against her bare sex. He buried his head against her neck, grabbing her tight and she hissed. “I-I need to breathe!”

He relaxed his grip a bit but still held her, slowly moving his hips which made her bite her lip. Gods above he was big. Even though she just came, his damn cock rubbing between her wet folds was making her flush and squirm. She wished he had just damn well stuck it in though his length gliding over her made her realize she still had no idea how on earth he would fit. He would be fucking her stomach if he tried.

The thought made her groan and he increased his desperate, sloppy thrusts, his pants and restrained moans low as he did. She reached up, holding his head to her as he got off, her toes starting to curl as he rubbed over her clit – probably without knowing – and his thrusts became rougher. She whimpered against him.

“A-Ancarion,” she said and he responded with a groan. She reached between them, her hands stroking the top of his shaft making him buck, his grip tightening on her body. “C-Come on, honey, keep it up.”

“A-Alla!” he complained. “I-I…”

“Come on,” she hissed, her thumb running over his slit and he jerked against her. He eagerly rubbed against her fingers, his body tensing as he did and she gasped as he came rather quickly, his hands digging into her body. Her stomach and robes were coated with his semen, his moaning making her flush and he pulled back to grab her, angling her so he could kiss her.

It was her turn to stiffen. He never kissed her.

She melted into it after a moment, grabbing his collar to encourage him to continue. He whimpered against her lips, his inexperienced tongue struggling against her and she nipped at his bottom lip. He eventually let her take over, showing him how to kiss, his cute whimpering making her smile but she parted with him after a few moments. Her lips were swollen and she was tired, her body still throbbing from the aftermath of her own release. He looked down at her, a blush across his cheeks and slowly he realized what she wanted.

He struggled to get off of her, flushing when he saw her stomach. “Sorry…”

She found herself smiling, reaching down to touch the sticky come now cold against her. She swiped a bit of it with her pinky, tasting it and he flushed deep, tugging his pants up before he adjusted his robes. She grinned at him. “Tastes better when it’s… hot and fresh.”

“S-Slut,” he spat and she picked up some sand, throwing it at him making him flinch.

“A man fucks a woman and he’s praised for his prowess. I don’t even fuck a stiff, virginal Altmer and I get called a slut. Apologize, Ancarion!” she snapped and he flushed.

“S-Sorry.”

“That’s better,” she huffed as she started dressing, wiping the come off with her sleeve before she washed it in the ocean. He remained by her, awkwardly waiting as he did and she looked back at him. “You can go back to the ship now, you know virgin.”

He flushed but ignored her insult. “W-Why? Where are you going?”

“To Raven Rock,” she said. “I’m tired. I’m going to go sleep for a while.” He didn’t look pleased and she stared at him. “Why? Do you want to cuddle or something?”

“N-No,” he spat. “F-Forget it. I’m going.”

“Ancarion,” she called making him stop. “…I’ll come back in a few days. I’ll bring some food, alright?”

He hesitated. “Can… you get me some books?”

She smiled at him. “I can.” He seemed relieved and turned, moving to go back when she found herself sporting a wicked thought, a naughty grin growing on her face. “I’ll bring you a copy of the Lusty Argonian Maid! We can re-enact it!”

He turned around in an instant. “I-I don’t want that smut! D-Don’t you dare bring that to me!”

“Four copies of the Lusty Maid, coming up!” she sang making him stomp his feet. She laughed as she jogged in the opposite direction of him, making a mental note to try and find some rare books for the poor boy. If she didn’t know better, she was actually falling for the repressed Thalmor. She found herself humming despite it.


	27. Answer to Yourself (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Two people are in a relationship and everything has been going well until recently. Perhaps one of the parties has been away a lot, or maybe they haven't been communicating or they seem to fight more than anything else or maybe a former lover/long lost friend has come into town. I don't really care who the two people are or what's caused the conflict, just give me some sweet angsty relationship dramas. 
> 
> So, this was the start of my revelation that *maybe* Alla shouldn't have a happy ending. I mean, she's rude, she's unbearable, and no one really takes her seriously. Why should she get the happy ending? So, I began thinking. The more I worked with her the more I realized that it was perfect to have her die in such unfortunate ways. After all, the dragonborn is supposed to be a noble person. Not this mouthy brat. This signed her fate. Looking back, I still like that I chose that for her. The guys of Skyrim can do much better anyways.

“Azura’s Star?” he said from the bar counter and she nodded, tugging a piece off his half eaten sweet roll.

“Mmhmm,” she said, popping the piece into her mouth. “So you’ve heard of it?”

“Yes but… it’s been a long time since I have,” he admitted, drinking from his tankard. “I mean, it’s been a while.” He stopped. “How do you know of it?”

She shrugged. “I went up to the Shrine of Azura, just to see it since today was so lovely and there was no snowstorms or damn blizzard-”

“Yes but how does that relate? How do you know of the star? The shrine doesn’t… tell you does it?” he asked and she shook her head.

“There’s a Priestess up there-”

“A-A Priestess?! To Azura?!”

“Will you let me talk!” she cut in and he went quiet, his expression tense. “Honestly, Nelacar, you’re strange sometimes you know that? Of course there’s a priestess to her! Anyways, I spoke with her and she told me about this item called Azura’s Star. She gave me some sort of riddle about it and told me to find an elven mage. Naturally, I thought of you. Don’t know why…”

She turned to him, his expression still unsavory and she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“That thing… Azura’s Star,” he commented. “That thing is evil.”

She tore off another piece of the sweetroll and shrugged. “I don’t know about it, Nelacar. Hence why I’m here. Why is it evil?”

He glared at her. “It’s a daedric object!” She still said nothing and he sighed. “Do you know anything about the daedra?”

“I’ve read the books, Nelacar,” she sighed. “I’m not completely stupid.”

“Well, I don’t know what you read. Half the time you’re more busy doing strange fetches for Enthir or… Or you’re halfway across Skyrim doing Stendarr knows what,” he said and she smiled. She knew what he was referring to, her secret missions she wouldn’t tell him about but she knew he would get upset if he heard she was with the Thieves Guild. Most people did. “Regardless, if you know the daedra then you know about the wicked Azura. Her star acts like a soul gem. Only this one never shatters after use. You can reuse it.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Is that so? That sounds… very useful.”

“Yes, well, my master half agreed on that but Azura’s star only absorbs white souls, not black,” he started but she put up her hand.

“Your master?!” He flushed. “Nelacar, I didn’t know you had a master. How interesting.”

“Not like that!” he flushed even more. “He was a teacher at the college! I studied under him. He… He was a brilliant man. He had an absolute gift with destruction magic and he wasn’t bad with a sword either. I looked up to him.”

She smiled even more and he glared at her. “So, what happened to your master?”

He sighed. “That damned star is what happened. We found it, tucked away in some god awful tomb and my master… He became obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed with it?” she asked, coming to his side. He merely nodded.

“You see, in his studies he had found that if we manipulated it we may just be able to break it off from Azura and cleanse it to be used freely amongst us for collecting souls. Our master, of course, started the process and we students helped him in his research but he soon extended beyond studying it during classes. He became utterly obsessed with it, night and day and Azura is to blame,” he muttered and she frowned.

“How so?”

“Well, that daedric prince drove him mad! She manipulated him into becoming fixated on it! He started hearing voices, shouting at things that weren’t there. He was a respectful man and because that… thing didn’t like what we were doing, she cursed him. Made him go completely insane until…” he sighed. “He killed one of the students. Collected her soul using the gem he had corrupted. After that, the college told him to leave and he fled with some of the more passionate disciples.”

“…And what of you?” she asked making him turn. “…Why didn’t you go Nelacar? You are obviously passionate about this… man.”

He frowned at her tone. “I was passionate about his work and his knowledge. As soon as he murdered someone I couldn’t stand behind him. I will always respect him, Alla. He was a great man but he killed a student. Now, the last I heard he holed himself up in a sunken fort in Falkreath. I have no idea if he still is there…”

She pursed her lips. “So this star is in Falkreath? I suppose I’ll have to go fetch it then for Azura.”

“What?!” he asked, shocked. “Why on earth would you do that!?”

“She asked me to bring her the star back,” Alla said, raising a brow. “What, am I supposed to just ignore that?”

“Yes!” he spat. “That thing drove my master mad! She’s evil, Alla, and she’s obviously manipulating you as well!”

“Calm down, Nelacar, no one is manipulating me,” she scoffed. “Azura isn’t that bad. She’s hardly like Molag Bal.”

“They’re all dangerous, Alla! They… you don’t even know!”

“Nelacar, you’re acting like a child!” she snapped, giving him a look as he became agitated. “Look, what it sounds like is your master got what he deserved!”

“What?!” he cut in and she glared at him.

“Who tampers with a daedric item!? Sounds like Azura did what was right and killed him for being so foolish! Now, if I am going to find this star then-“

“Then I hope a daedra takes you!” he shouted making her stop and stare. “If you would rather help them than a poor man, then go ahead! I don’t care! But don’t you ever come back here to me looking for one of your disgusting quick fucks, you whore!” He sneered at her. “We’re through! Get out of my room!”

She stared at him. He had never raised his voice to her, not once and hearing it coupled with the insults; he seemed to get even angrier when she didn’t move. “I said get out! Get out, you harlot!”

“…You fucking asshole,” she said, her voice shaking but he didn’t back down. “How dare you say such things to me.”

“Really? You’ve never been called what you are?!” he spat and she nearly flinched. It was if he had slapped her. “You’re nothing but an Altmer-chasing whore, Alla! How stupid was I to think you liked me! You like my dick, like a slut! And now you’ve shown your true colors as a sympathizer for a murderous group of demons! So get out!”

She didn’t move still.

“Get OUT!”

It finally hit her and she breathed in, the air stinging her lungs. She grabbed her things, kicking over a chair as she did and she shook as she went to the door. “I hope you burn in Oblivion, Nelacar.”

“You’d be there before me!”

She left, slamming the door behind her and she ignored the looks from the patrons as she exited the inn, disappearing into the night.

 

\--

 

She didn’t go back to the Inn from then on, instead taking to fixing her room up in her quarters. She took to planting flowers among the mushrooms and nightshade of her new garden, trimming off bits here and there to create potions which she then lined up on a shelf, her hobby of alchemy becoming less exciting.

She tried to go adventuring but a few hours away from the college got her couriers chasing her down. She needed to approve more spending on books, there were problems in The Rift from the eye of Magnus, someone had spilled soup on a rare book and Urag was out for blood. She became more disillusioned with her standing, seeking time away from it all at an increasing rate and she found herself in Markarth one day, looking at the giant Dwemer ruins without any thought or awe.

She realized the college was making her hate what she loved and she took up a room at the inn, sleeping as much as she could trying to get back into what drew her to the province of Skyrim in the first place. She should be excited with the sites, eager to learn but she found herself angry at the thought of alchemy for it reminded her of him and increasing requests to do tasks only further made her recall the college.

She was tired and she needed an escape.

It came in the form of a group of cultists one day. They brazenly attacked her, shouting she was not the real dragonborn and she fought back, furious they could say such a thing. When they laid dead before her she stole their robes and discovered a note that made her curious. Travel to Solstheim. She tucked the paper in her knapsack and continued back to Markarth. She left a few flowers on the grave of her deceased lover, checked in on the Jarl who had no use for her and she left to go back to Winterhold to gather a few things, her mind on how to get passage to see who the cultists were who attacked her.

When she arrived back she was swarmed with letters and she dropped them all on her bed, angry as she started to pack. It was only when Enthir came in did she finally blow up.

“What am I supposed to do with all this?!” she shouted, kicking at the papers which were now spilling off her bed. Her friend said nothing, taking a seat and he watched her with a judgemental eye which made her fuss even more. “What, Enthir!?”

He said nothing for a moment. “Nelacar’s looking for you. You took one of his books.”

“Yeah? Tell him to shove it!” she snapped and he sighed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, his fingers lacing together.

“Alla. Don’t be like that.”

“Enthir, I’m not discussing this,” she said right back, grabbing as many healing potions as she could, tugging on her old robes which still fit like a glove. She tossed the Arch-Mage robes into a chest and locked it. “We’re through. He made that perfectly clear.”

“No, you antagonized him to that point,” he said and she stopped, staring at him. “Alla, you need to go apologize to him. You have no idea how much he looked up to Malyn Veran.”

She grit her teeth. “I am not apologizing to him.”

Enthir sighed, shaking his head. “You’re really going to throw away a relationship like that because you’re a stubborn bitch?”

She bristled at his words, her fingers clenching together tight and they stared at each other until she broke it, reminding herself she didn’t have time for this. She went to fetch an extra pair of robes, grabbing a few sets of undergarments with it and she shoved them all into her bag, tying it tight. The knapsack bulged and she growled but ignored it, throwing it over her shoulder. Enthir watched her.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she said, walking to the door and he went after her, following her steps.

“Where is ‘away’?”

“Away,” she repeated, opening the door to go down the steps, ignoring him as he followed. He ran ahead, moving to block her from walking down and she sneered at him. “Get out of my way, Enthir.”

“Alla, running away won’t solve this,” he said and she shoved him aside, moving quicker to open the door to the hall of elements. He pursued. “Alla! You’re acting like a damn child!”

“Me?!” she spat, turning on him and she ignored the look from her classmates as they looked over their shoulder, catching sight of her and Enthir. She stepped towards him, her anger rising in her body. “You accuse me of being childish!? I am leaving and it’s not because of Nel-a-car. I’m going because I have to!”

“Leaving?” she heard Brelyna say and the class turned towards her making her flush. “Alla, you’re leaving?”

She grit her teeth, glaring at them then back at her friend before she threw open the doors to the hall, crossing the courtyard towards the gate. Enthir followed yet again.

“Leaving because you have to? And what do you have to do?” he called. “Become Azura’s champion? What about Molag Bal’s or Mehrunes Dagon’s? Is that what you’re doing?”

“Oh, fuck off Enthir!” she shouted back at him, still walking. “You don’t even know what I’m doing so lay off!”

“I know that you’re running away like a coward!” he shouted back. “He did love you, Alla!”

Her heart burned at his words and she turned to glare at him. He stopped, staring back and she felt venom on her tongue, the desire to hurt him burning under her skin. She almost called up a spell, wanting to inflict pain upon her former friend for manipulating her as such but she turned and went down the path instead, jumping over the patches of ice. She had to get to Windhelm, to a boat.

She made her way down the streets of Winterhold, not speaking to the greetings she got and she was almost outside of the town limits, the blizzard that was rolling in over the road starting to make her robes move when her name was called and she stopped.

Brelyna, Onmund, and J’zargo came running, a few of the other students coming behind though not as fast. “Alla! Alla, wait! Where are you going!?”

She adjusted her pack, turning back to the road. “Alla!” Brelyna called and she stopped. “Alla, talk to us! You can’t just leave!”

She felt her heart thump in her chest. It hurt, as if someone was squeezing it and she reached into her pocket, pulling out the key to the Arch-mage quarters. She turned and threw it at them, the brass key bouncing on the stones of the road and the three of them stared at her.

“Someone else has to be Arch-mage now,” she said. “I’m done.”

“Why?” Onmund yelled, the storm starting to pick up and a few of the guards looked to them, the door to the Frozen Hearth opening. She shifted, anxiety rising in her stomach. “What’s driving you away?! We need you!”

“Oh, no you don’t Onmund!” she shouted back, her voice breaking as she saw Dagur and Haran come out, looking to the commotion. “I-I’m just not cut out for it! I need to go!”

“J’zargo does not understand,” she heard her other friend say and she winced, biting her lip. Brelyna took a step forward, the other students now caught up along with a few of the professors and she felt her heart pound. This was turning too much into a scene; she had to leave.

“Alla, please. You’ve saved the college. You’ve saved Winterhold. Whatever’s wrong, we can help! Don’t go!”

She took a step back, hesitant. She needed to leave, to find out about the cultists, to have an interest in life again and the door to the Frozen Hearth opened again. Nelacar stepped out, his eyes moving until they saw her and she felt her heart move into her mouth, the pounding unbearable.

She turned and ran, not caring anymore. She heard Brelyna call after her but her voice became lost in the sounds of the wind, the blizzard becoming worse. She kept going, the cold and snow cutting right through her body but she persisted. She needed to escape.

Her robes and boots became wet from the snow, the storm making it harder to see more than a hand in front of her and even her spells of candlelight didn’t help the matter. She called upon clear skies but her voice kept getting caught in her throat, choking on the emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge. She eventually gave up, staggering through snowbanks and over slippery stones, making her way through the blizzard and she stumbled upon the mine that bordered the Hold.

The sky was dark, the wind only making it worse and she stumbled into the dreary mine, collapsing by the front. Her robes were soaked, parts of it becoming solid ice and she couldn’t feel her feet, her hands shaking as she touched the wet fur where her toes should have been. She could hear voices below, no doubt the two miners but she didn’t venture down, curling against the door instead to wait for the storm to die down a bit. She was crying, not from how frozen she was and she could feel her chest tightening, a full on sob wanting to come upon her but she collected herself.

She reached into her knapsack and pulled out the note, trying to read it in the little light there was but she couldn’t. She held it to her, praying to whatever gods there were to help her before she tucked it away and pressed her hands under her arms.

For being the mythical dragonborn, not only was she a coward and now she was completely alone. Some hero for the ages.

 

\--

 

She picked up another stone, weighing it in her hand before she threw it at the ocean, watching as it hit the surface making a splash before disappearing. The Thalmor Agent next to her threw the rock he had in his hands, his flying farther and she snorted, crossing her arms.

“Lucky throw.”

He smirked but turned towards her, his golden eyes moving over her smaller frame. “I would debate that but honestly, I don’t see a point,” he remarked making her roll her eyes. “Alla?”

“What?”

“Are you going to stay out here again?” he asked and she pursed her lips. “We are setting sail to Solitude if you wish to accompany us. We’ll drop you off at the docks while we go back to the Embassy.”

She pressed her tongue against her cheek. “I don’t want to go back to Skyrim,” she said, reaching down to grab another rock to throw at the ocean, stuffing her emotions in it as she did. Ancarion said nothing, sighing before he reached down and sifted through the sand, picking up a small pebble to flick into the surf.

“I know I really shouldn’t care,” he muttered. “But I’m starting to worry about you. You’ve exhausted all the Stalhrim on this island and now you just brood in that run down shack at the docks. It’s not healthy. Staying on this gods-forsaken island isn’t healthy.”

She grabbed another rock, hurling it at the waves, hissing when it fell short of where she wanted it to go and she reached down to scoop up another. “I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?”

“Will I?” she mocked, turning on him, her teeth gritting and his eyebrows raising made her stop. Her shoulders slumped, her mood still sour and she fell down to sit on the sand, bringing her knees up as she watched the ocean brush up against the shore, the glaciers in the distance floating at a snail’s pace. “There’s nothing for me there, Ancarion. At least here I have Hermaeus Mora watching me and everything I do so I’m not completely alone.”

“Having a daedric prince watch you is not healthy,” he pointed out and she sighed. “You are an adequate business woman and blacksmith. Why not use those skills?”

“And what, sell weapons to the horkers?” she said and he scowled.

“I mean use them in Skyrim. Auri-El knows that frozen wasteland needs a good smith,” he muttered and she said nothing, resting her chin on her knees as she watched the ocean. Her heart still felt heavy and she shook her head.

“I’m going to just stay here.”

He sighed. “Fine. I can’t make you and the more I think about it, I shouldn’t care,” he said. “But I don’t really enjoy the thought of sailing back here and finding your dead body.”

“Find my body? I thought you didn’t care?” she said. “Or are you thinking you’ll miss the mind-blowing sex only I am able to give you?” He turned red and she smiled for the first time in a while. She reached over, grabbing at the hem of his robes and he slapped her hand away, stepping back. “What? I just wanted a peek. You know how much I love your cock.”

“S-Slut,” he snapped and she stuck her tongue out.

“That wasn’t what you called me last night.”

He flushed, awkwardly shifting in his place and she chuckled, looking back out at the ocean. After a moment her face fell and she thought back of the college and what she had left. Did anyone miss her? Did Nelacar miss her? She bit her lip, thinking of his kisses, the way he held her during the night, his enthusiasm for the stupidest experiments and Ancarion sighed next to her.

“Why don’t you go see him?” he said and she snapped out of her thoughts, staring at him. “I know the look of a woman in love.”

She turned red, anger filling her stomach. “I’m not in love, you piece of shit,” she snapped. “If anything, love is a curse. Stuck with a singular person for the rest of your life? No thank you,” she stood up, slapping her robes to get the sand off. “How utterly boring and dull. If I couldn’t have free reign of who I can be with at any given point then I might as well go drown myself in this ocean.”

“No need to be dramatic about it,” he said and she furrowed her brows at him. “Alla… How old are you?”

“Twenty-five. Why?”

He shrugged and she stared at him, wondering what his ulterior motive was but he didn’t respond. She threw the rock she still had in her hand, picking up another to toss and he spoke. “You don’t have much longer to live. Well, to us elves. I’m only returning here one more time before I sail for the Isles. If you decide to stay here in some dirty old shack, fine, but know you’ll be alone until you meet your end if you want to be stubborn.”

She glared at him. “If you are implying that I wished to ask you to stay with me as a shagging buddy, you can go fuck yourself, Ancarion. And double if that’s your idea of a proposal to me.”

“It wasn’t. I wouldn’t dream of marrying a girl like you,” he cut in and she felt her heart thump in her chest, her cheeks blazing in anger.

“I’ve had enough of this,” she snapped. “I’m leaving. You fucking Altmers can rot in Molag Bal’s plane of Oblivion. I’m done.”

“Alla,” he sighed and she hissed at him before grabbing her knapsack, stomping down the beach. She felt her heart sting making her pick up the pace and she ran until she met the waterfall where the netches hovered, throwing herself into the water to swim to the small island before doing it again to get to the other side. When she was finally over she turned around, looking to see if he followed and he hadn’t. She sighed, smoothing her hair back and she began the long walk to Raven Rock.

She kept wiping at the water in her eyes long after she had become dry.

 

\--

 

She was drunk and she knew it.

“Glover…” she slurred and the man gave her a look, his first tankard not even finished. “Why…? Why are men…? No, why are mers so dumb?” she asked, hiccupping. He sighed, reaching to take her drink but she held it to herself, growling. “A-Answer the question!”

“Alla, you’re drunk,” he said and she nodded in agreement. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m fine!” she spit, nearly knocking the candle off the table and she could feel a few eyes on her when she did. Glover gave her a look and she giggled, sheepish. “Sor-r-r-ry.”

“Alla, please. You’re embarrassing yourself,” he commented and she furrowed her brows, anger rising in herself.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, am I?” she spit. “Oh well, I wouldn’t want to do that! I wouldn’t dare embarrass you, no, no. That would just be a tragedy!” She was starting to shout and Glover rubbed his temples, trying not to look around. She dropped her tankard on the table, staggering as she got up and she turned on him, angry that even her only link to the Thieves Guild was acting like an ass to her. She didn’t know why she couldn’t catch a break. “I’ll just leave then! So that you, Glover Mallory, will not be subjected to my embarrassing behavior!”

“Alla,” he said like a father scolding a daughter and she left, waving him off as she did. She struggled on the steps, ignoring the looks from some of the Dunmer townsfolk and she staggered out into the streets of Raven Rock, her mood turning from angry to morose. She wondered if anyone at the college was at the Frozen Hearth having a drink.

She wiped her nose, stomping off towards the end of the Bulwark when a hand came and grabbed her. She jerked, her vision dizzy and her eyes met with the bonemold armor of the Captain of the Guard. He gave her a look making her flush and shake him off and she stood before him trying to appear normal.

“Alla? What are you doing?” he asked and she shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“You stink of sujamma and mead,” he pointed out and she wiped her nose again. “Alla, you’re drunk.”

“I am not!” she tried to say but she hiccupped making him cross his arms. She frowned. So the ground was spinning a little and she couldn’t walk in a straight line, so what? It didn’t change anything and what she wanted was some peace. She turned to leave but Veleth caught her making her groan. “I... I’m just going to Neloth’s. Leave me be.”

“You cannot even stand let alone walk the distance it will take to get there! Alla, don’t be foolish,” he chastised and she felt her anger coming back, shoving him off to stagger back. She was tired of everyone telling her what she was.

“I’m the dragonborn,” she spat at him. “I will be fine. Now leave me be!”

He was about to protest but she turned and ran, stumbling as she did and getting caught in a trauma root. She fell, tumbling on the ash and her wrist buckled under her making her cough in pain, her head even dizzier than before. She could hear steps, obviously Captain Veleth coming to help her and she got back up, holding her wrist to her chest as she ran towards the gates leading out of Raven Rock, not stopping until she couldn’t tell which way was up.

She collapsed, the world spinning, her body aching and her soul hurting and she lay on the ash of the hills staring up at the sky. She had once been Arch-mage of the College of Winterhold. She was Hermaeus Mora’s Champion, the dragonborn, a member of the Thieves Guild and she even helped quell a civil war yet she could not get over a single mer.

She closed her eyes, the amount of drink she had consumed going to her head. She felt lost and out of place. She didn’t belong in Cyrodiil, her father made that clear. She didn’t belong in Skyrim as she so happily found out, and she didn’t belong in Solstheim. So where did she belong?

She opened her eyes, feeling ash coating her cheeks and she rolled on her side, the land seeming to turn with her making her stomach lurch. She had to start fresh; not as the dragonborn or Arch-mage or a Champion but as a regular girl. She wretched on the land, regretting running from Raven Rock. She’d start tomorrow, when she could stand. She could tell she was in for a rough night.

 

\--

 

She ended up retreating to the book of Waking Dreams.

High above the plane, where she had killed Miraak she sat listening to the world around her, her thoughts lost in her head. She had picked up some books before she had settled, flipping through the pages but not absorbing it and she finally fell into her depression, her eyes staring out at nothing, her mind merely a rolling sea of emotions she didn’t understand.

She felt Hermaeus around her at some point but he moved away when she stirred leaving her alone. She began to wonder if this was a punishment from the gods for her mingling with the daedra. The emptiness she felt was crushing but it would not break her leaving her in an endless sea of confusion and misery which she could not break from.

She shut her books and lightly traced the covers, wishing she had answers. As soon as she did, Hermaeus came and she felt the pressure of his presence around her.

“You seek knowledge… do you not, dragonborn?” his voice echoed, hitting her body making her uncomfortable and she swallowed. “What is it that you seek?”

She didn’t know where to begin.

“Herm… Master,” she corrected herself, her voice barely a whisper as she clutched the book in her hands. “You can see the future, can you not?” There was a rumbling behind her that made her shiver and she stared at her book, not looking up. “Do you know my future?”

“I do,” his voice came after a moment, an emphasis on his power over her. She bit her lip.

“Will you tell me it? If I die?”

There was a chuckle but it wasn’t of amusement. “Everyone dies… dragonborn,” he told her making her close her eyes. “You are not above that… Nor will you ever be.”

“I-I know, I know,” she stressed, her skin prickling as his presence drew near as if he was standing over her lording his knowledge and power. “I-I mean, do I die… soon? Is my path ending very near?”

His presence moved and she bit her lip, her eyes still closed as she felt hundreds on her, in front of her. He was staring at her making her shiver, her desire to know if her misery would end high in her mind and she flinched violently when something touched her. She opened her eyes, a tentacle in front of her and it slithered over her legs making her shudder, the tendril sneaking to wrap around her neck. She almost begged it to squeeze.

“If you are asking me to kill you…” he almost growled, the tentacle tightening around her and she didn’t dare speak. “…Do not make me think I chose… the wrong Champion to back.” It pulled away and she breathed out, instantly reaching to touch her throat and his presence moved again, coming to stare at her from above, eyes opening and closing all around. 

“Your mortal… emotions are amusing… But not needed. I have chosen you for your knowledge and service… Your conflicted thoughts I will not address…” his voice rumbled and she said nothing, ashamed. “But know that what you do… will make no difference. You are mine, Champion. You serve me.”

She exhaled, nodding, her heart still heavy and he moved, a myriad of books soon forming, almost encasing her until she got up, stumbling back. “Knowledge… dragonborn. That is what you need. You have an endless… thirst for it which is why you are here…”

She said nothing, staring at the books, her thoughts moving again to Winterhold, to the college and of Urag and her former friends. She lowered her eyes. “Come my champion. You may… indulge. Find what you seek amongst the library…”

She reached out and took out a book, holding it gently in her hands. He chuckled, in amusement this time and she slowly sat back down.

“Thank you, my Master,” she said quietly. He did not reply, his presence moving away again and she was left alone on top of the plane among a stack of books, her eyes dulling. Her heart still hurt but this time it was with the pain of knowing Enthir was right. She threw away so much by being stubborn and now all she had were books and the fear that Hermaeus might grow tired of her like he did Miraak and her heart would be pierced by his wrath.

She closed the book and held it to her chest.

 

\--

 

She stumbled out of the cave, her eyes burning as the sun hit her face and she coughed, reeking of Falmer and Chaurus, her hands aching from the amount of magic she had dispelled. She had gotten the book Hermaeus had wanted, though why it was hidden in a Falmer den and not already in his possession confused her. She knew if she thought long enough about it she would find the answer.

Maybe he was testing her. Or maybe he wanted to send her to her death. 

She stopped thinking about it, stumbling over the rocks and she staggered back onto the plains of Whiterun, her legs shaking as she walked. She had spent too much time in Apocrypha, too long with the daedric lord and she felt as if she was losing her grip on reality as she moved. Walking on earth didn’t feel right anymore and she began stumbling up the mountain, heading back in the directions of Windhelm, towards the boat that would take her to Solstheim.

She didn’t recognize her name when it was called. It sounded so odd, the letters being spoken but something drew her attention and she watched as two people ran towards her, one tall and one short, their satchels stuffed with flowers at their sides.

Once she recognized them she supposed. Now they were strangers in robes like hers.

“Alla! Is that you?!” a Bosmer cried, running to her and she stepped back away from his touch. He stared at her, panting a bit. “Sheogorath’s balls, Alla. You look like shit!”

She stared at him, his name eluding her and the taller one came up beside him, panting a bit before he stopped. He, she recognized now. His name and face haunted her dreams, mocked her sanity.

“Nelacar,” she whispered.

“Alla? Alla, what happened?” he asked and she flushed, pulling her hood over her face more. “You look terrible!”

She felt her heart burn and she rubbed her nose. This was worse than her nightmares. At least in those she could wake up and leave. “Yeah, well, being with a daedra tends to do that to you,” she remarked making him draw away from her. It hurt even more seeing him physically pull back and she shrugged, moving to leave. She didn’t have time for this. “Bye.”

“Alla, wait,” he called, moving towards her and she flinched, not used to something genuinely reaching out for her. The Seekers and Lurkers she dealt with only wanted to aggravate her and she stumbled. The Bosmer came near, holding his hands out as well and she drew her arms around herself, warning them. They stopped.

She looked for an exit, slowly stepping backwards in case she had to dart down the hill and the mages gave her a look of pity which she hated seeing. She turned to leave when the Altmer grabbed her.

She screamed. “L-Let go of me!”

“Alla, I’m sorry!” he yelled and she stopped, going limp against him. In all the scenarios she played out in her head, in all the nightmares he had never said that. She didn’t know what to do and his arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry…”

“I don’t… understand…?” she whispered and he sighed. “…I don’t… understand… why…?”

“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean to drive you away,” he said behind her and she flushed. “Not to become this… A servant of a daedra. I never wanted that for you. Honest.”

Her throat tightened.

“Stendarr’s Mercy, Alla, I just was angry you couldn’t see how awful they were! My master died because of one and now you-! You’re…” he held her tighter and she reached up, her fingers uselessly trying to pull him off with no luck. “I loved you.”

Her heart plummeted and she stared at the ground. There is was again. I loved you; past tense. The Bosmer was standing off to the side staring at her and she chewed her lip as she finally remembered his name. Enthir. 

He had been right all along.

It didn’t matter now, she served Hermaeus and she was his until he tired of her which she was beginning to feel like he already had. Despite being dragonborn she severely lacked the power Miraak had and she had begun to think of her victory over him as a stroke of luck. Maybe it was from the gods to punish her more for her acts. Whatever it was, she was tired and no longer able to fight or debate.

She pried the hands off of her body, stumbling a bit before righting herself and she stared at the ground, her limbs and mind heavy. “I need to get back to my master,” she lamented. “Keep well, Nelacar. Enthir.”

“You can’t leave!” Enthir called and she stopped. “Alla… let us help you.”

She turned back to stare at them.

“You can’t.”


	28. The Emergency (F!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Restoring Winterhold to its former glory is a daunting task, especially with J'zargo, Brelyna, Onmund and Savos's odd apprentice determined to bring the wrath of the Thalmor crashing down upon her head.
> 
> I actually did want to finish this. I had a plan written up and everything! But when no one showed interest I just lost the will to continue. This was going to be a pretty hefty fic in which Mirabelle has a child and Alla ends up being executed on the college grounds because she's unbearable. I even wrote the death scene out and everything but I just couldn't find myself getting into it when no one cared. That's the shitty thing about getting a slight bit of popularity somewhere - when people stop caring, you really question what you did to drive them off. (Although maybe my personality being like Alla's is a clue, hm).

She felt as if she had been trapped in a soul gem. Her soul hurt, her arms and legs useless and when she opened her eyes all she saw was white light. She honestly started questioning whether or not she had died when something touched her and she moved, her eyes instinctively going to whatever was against her.

A smiling, old face peered down at her and she found herself licking her lips, her throat parched as she tried to speak. “Tolfdir.”

“Hello, Mirabelle,” he said with a great deal of relief and beside him Colette stirred, her arms crossing.

“See?” her high voice came piercing into her skull and she winced, shielding her eyes from the light and the headache coming on. “I told you, without Restoration magic she might be dead! Restoration magic saved our Master Wizard and-”

“Alright, Colette, we get it,” Drevis said, annoyed and Mirabelle turned her head again seeing him on the other side of the bed. She found herself at a bit of a loss.

“Where am I?” she asked and when she focused, the light no longer glaring, she noticed she was in her room. “…What happened? Where’s Ancano?”

The three professors looked to each other before Tolfdir spoke. “He’s dead. Savos’ Imperial apprentice killed him. She… She found the staff of Magnus in Labyrinthian, Mirabelle, being guarded by the Priest of the Ancient Dragon Cult. She killed that monster and came back and killed Ancano. She’s saved the college.”

She took in the words carefully before speaking. She remembered seeing the girl off to Labyrinthian then… The magic ward or whatever it was had gotten bigger and she was trapped. “Where is she?”

They all hesitated and she drew her hand back, worried. Did their savior get killed as well? She tried leaning up but Tolfdir pressed her shoulders back to the bed. “S-She’s not dead, Mirabelle. But she’s not here either. None of the apprentices are. We sent Enthir and Faralda to try and find them but that was a while ago. I don’t believe they’re dead but I do fear they may be getting into trouble.”

“Trouble with what?” she asked, her stomach hurting and she winced in discomfort. Colette came forward and she was hit with a healing spell that made her sigh with relief. Tolfdir sighed from her side, rubbing her shoulders to alleviate the ache and Drevis spoke for him.

“We think they went to attack the Thalmor.”

She was up in a minute making Tolfdir frown. “What?! Are they mad?! You cannot just go against the Thalmor! What are they thinking?” They all became silent and she stared at them all, her stomach hurting again and she bent over a bit, groaning. Suddenly she had such an urge to throw up. The three gathered around her but she waved them off making them back away. “Please… get me a bucket.”

Drevis ran out and Colette came to her side. “Is my magic not working?”

“No, no,” she said, her forehead a bit light. “I just feel a bit queasy for some reason. It may be from getting up too soon,” she soothed the professor before she focused for a moment. “Tolfdir, we need to get those kids back before they really invoke the wrath of the Thalmor. Those elves are dangerous and apprentice mages – even if one is the dragonborn – have no chance against them.”

He nodded and rubbed her back as Colette took her hand, patting it. She sighed and relaxed for the first time she woke. She couldn’t believe the mess she woke up to and Drevis came back with a bucket, behind him Phinis and Serguis following. They remained in the doorway as she was given the bucket and she hugged it to herself, flushing, all the professors save for Faralda beside her bed. She gave them a warm smile.

“Thank you, all of you. For being here. For saving me as well, I assume.

They seemed to all give her a warm look back until Phinis spoke. “If we’re all here, then why don’t we make it official?” She looked to him and all the heads turned as well. “We need an Arch-Mage. Who better to take the position than Mirabelle?”

She stared, her cheeks paling. Arch-Mage? Her? She wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t dream of the job but she just woke up and she had no idea the situation downstairs. It sounded like the college was still standing but her students were missing. Ancano was dead. Savos was dead. Who knew the amount of damage done to the college not to mention the time that had passed?

Thankfully Tolfdir spoke. “I think we should decide that later. Mirabelle just woke up. Right now, our priority is still to make sure she is alright and to find out apprentices.”

The four professors looked to each other but nodded. “I’ll go send word out to the guards again,” Serguis said and Phinis sighed.

“I can go and ask at the Inn. Though since Nelacar is gone, it won’t do much good finding the Imperial. He usually knows where she is.”

Mirabelle looked up. “Nelacar? What do you mean he’s gone?”

A few of the professors looked to her, confused and Tolfdir rubbed her back. “He’s been missing as long as the apprentices have. He isn’t welcome here, of course but him being acquainted with the students-”

She bit her lip. The apprentices were gone and so was Nelacar. What in the world was happening since she had been in her coma or sleepless state? She tried to get up but she was made to stay in bed, Colette by her side.

“Mirabelle, don’t try and get up already. Otherwise I will have to resort to paralyzing you!” she stared at the little Restoration mage but she fell back in her bed, the bucket still held by her hands. “We’ll update you as soon as we can.”

“Fine,” she remarked. “Please, find those children.”

All the professors left save for Tolfdir who stayed behind, looking down at her with sad eyes. She looked up at him, weary. “Tolfdir, can you tell me something?”

“Anything you want to know I can try and tell you,” he said and she sighed.

“What did you do with Ancano’s body?”

He stared at her and she flushed a bit. “We buried it beneath the college. We all did speak about sending it back to the Embassy but they may have viewed it as an insult,” he explained and she sighed, looking away. “Why, may I ask?”

“Just curious,” she said quietly and he remained by her side a little longer before she closed her eyes and tried drifting off. He left when he thought she was asleep and when she was sure he was gone she leaned up, her forehead hitting the bucket. Her shoulders shook a little but she kept her sobs inside, only letting a few tears fall from her face.

She had begged him, absolutely begged him not to do anything and now he was dead. She wasn’t even given a chance to bargain with him. Her stomach turned and she finally threw up, crying into the bucket. She didn’t realize how much she cared for the bastard until he was gone. Her head felt light and her hands shook as she placed the bucket down by her bedside, turning to try and sleep, her heart still aching.

It took a while for her to fall back asleep, her soft crying and aching body and stomach not helping but when she finally did, her dreams were light and comforting as she moved past her sorrow; it wasn’t as if they were deeply in love they just had sex. Really unjustifiable and risky sex but that was all they shared.

She was relieved to have survived despite it all and the thought of being Arch-Mage made her smile, her tears drying a bit. She prayed that Savos was in a better place as her dear friend deserved it but the prospect of truly running the college was starting to hit her. A new curriculum, improvements to the building and a focus on maintaining their pride.

The dreams took her into a rem cycle which she eased into gratefully. When she woke, she would do so with a clear head and a goal in mind.

\--

Alla stood above the dead soldier, the glass sword in her hand dripping with blood and behind her Onmund sat on the sand holding his arm while Brelyna tended to him. J’zargo stood beside Alla, his tail twitching as he caught a scent in the wind.

“Something is not right,” he said. “J’zargo smells something weird. Like wet dogs.”

She raised her head and turned the sword over, blood staining the snow and she tossed the sword down, its use done. Her hands were itching now, her magic having replenished and she walked towards the snowbanks, her eyes on the endless plains of snow that lined Dawnstar. From her right, Nelacar came from where he had dueled the Thalmor mage, his hands shaking from how much magic he had used and he moved to her side, looking out at the quiet world that was spread before them.

“Alla,” he said quietly and she said nothing, still scanning the snow for what J’zargo had detected. “We should go back. We’re into Dawnstar now and your mage friends cannot keep up with you.”

She didn’t reply, still watching and he let out a sigh, crossing his arms. “Alla, come on. Stripping Winterhold of all Thalmor isn’t going to bring Mirabelle or Savos back.”

She finally looked to him, irritated. “You don’t know if any of these bastards are under Ancano, Nelacar. What if they got word I killed him? Then our college is going to be in danger. This is just tying up loose ends.”

He pressed his lips together. “Like that Agent in Labyrinthian?”

She touched her side at his words and he sighed, reaching down to place his hands against her as well, rubbing. She flushed, tearing her eyes from the landscape to look at him, moving closer and he held her for a moment, the wind behind them rushing to cut through their robes and Brelyna let out a noise of frustration which made her turn.

Onmund’s bandage had come off and she tried to salvage it while the Nord flushed at her nearly pushing him down, her hands grabbing at the fabric. J’zargo came over and he grabbed the ends of the linen, wrapping Onmund’s arm in less than a second and Alla smiled as the two stared at him in shock.

“Onmund and Brelyna need to learn how to bandage an arm,” he said and Brelyna flushed.

Finally the sound came, a long howl across the plains and she ripped her eyes back to the snow before them. She saw movement but it wasn’t the black fur she was expecting. The wolves were white, nearly blending in and she shot away from Nelacar, her hands lighting on fire. She couldn’t lose sight of them otherwise they could overwhelm the group and she rushed across the snow starting to create a wall of fire in a V shape.

They ran through it, which is what she wanted and she threw her arms down, expelling a portion of her magic to conjure a flame atronarch behind them, her magic switching to simple fireballs to toss into the snarling wolves eyes.

The leader easily avoided her, rushing past towards the group and she turned, gritting her teeth. “Nelacar!” she screamed as she focused on the underlings of the pack, one going down due to her atronarch while another howled when her fireball slammed into its side causing it to fall.

The Altmer behind her shot electricity at the wolf but the beast dodged it, its eyes set on Onmund. It sought him as the weak link and Alla hissed in frustration, tossing fireballs at the pack that was circling them, hitting another leaving only three left. Brelyna was up, readying her hands and J’zargo shot a shard of ice at one of the pack, hitting it but it didn’t deter it much. Its body was thick with fur from surviving in the harsh winter of Dawnstar; ice was not its enemy.

Electricity shot through the beast taking it down. Nelacar stared at them. “Use fire or electric attacks! They’re Ice Wolves, not the damned ones from the south!”

A fireball hit another leaving the leader and one left and the large white wolf kept dancing around them, its teeth bared locked on Onmund. The poor Nord mage stood but he was a hand down, his eyes on the leader wary and Brelyna moved closer to him. The young pup to the left rushed them and J’zargo ran and kicked its neck.

It howled as it fell away and Alla threw a fireball, killing the poor thing instantly. All that was left was the leader and its ears went back as it stood a distance away, eyes on Onmund still but it knew its limits. It broke into a run down the beach, Nelacar sending a shot after it as a warning and they were left alone, Alla’s atronarch folding in on itself and going back to the plane of oblivion it had come from.

She sighed and looked at the carcasses scattered around them. Only two seemed in good condition and she pulled out her dagger, moving to start to hack at the body. The mages stared at her, horrified.

She ignored them, used to skinning animals and she cut the pelt away and tossed it on the ground, steam rising from the bloody underside. She moved to the other, slicing away as the sun started to go down and Nelacar came to her side.

“We need to seek shelter,” he said and she sighed, rolling the pelts up to tuck under her arm, blood staining her robes.

“We’ll head for Dawnstar. It’s not too far and I can afford a room for all of us,” she said. He nodded and went back to the others, taking up the rear as they came to follow her and she walked along the beach stinking of iron and fire. It had been like this for days now, the young students and the older Altmer mage traversing the beach, moving up to the road only when there were signs of movement.

Three Thalmor patrols had been cut down by their hands, one particularly nasty when a desperate young Altmer decided to rush Alla before they saw them. It didn’t end well for the Mer and Alla was forced to snap his neck like he was a chicken causing her friends to cringe in horror. She was the dragonborn, not a simple mage and she had dealt with death all too commonly now. One more life on her hands didn’t bother her. She already had consumed twenty of her apparent brethren’s souls and countless bandits had burned under her hands.

“Alla?” Onmund called and she slowed a bit, looking over her shoulder to the Nord who walked side by side with Brelyna. “How much longer are we going to keep this up? Chasing Thalmor Agents?”

She stopped and looked to them, her eyes moving to Nelacar who pursed his lips. She didn’t answer and kept going leading them to Dawnstar where the wind whipped through the town with a fierce bite, the soldiers who walked the roads looking miserable. She didn’t blame them and before they went to the inn, she sold the pelts to the blacksmith, gaining a few bit of coins for her effort. It was enough to buy them some food which they were all now lacking severely.

The Inn was more accommodating than the frigid air outside with its roaring fire and she paid for three rooms, J’zargo getting his own after fighting with Onmund over it and she took the double bed with Nelacar leaving the poor Nord and Dunmer to awkwardly figure out the king size bed.

They ate and drank in silence in the corner away from the general chatter, all eyes on her but she didn’t have an answer. She knew what the right thing to do was but her blood still boiled, wanting revenge. She supposed it was the dragon part of her, always seeking to conquer and destroy. Not that a lot of the Thalmor didn’t deserve it.

She finally stopped eating, letting out a sigh and she didn’t look to any of them before she spoke, her eyes on the shadows dancing around the hall. “We’ll start heading back tomorrow. I suppose we’ve done enough.”

Onmund let out a sigh of relief and J’zargo reached over and took her slices of venison. “J’zargo misses the college,” he said. “Killing stupid Thalmor is fun but now we belong back home so J’zargo can be named Arch-Mage.”

“Are you kidding?” Brelyna scoffed, the first time she had spoken in a while. “J’zargo, no one is going to name you Arch-Mage.”

He looked at her almost confused. “Why not? J’zargo is the most talented mage here,” he started and Alla rolled her eyes, looking to Nelacar who was across from her shaking his head, drinking deep from his tankard.

“Alla took down like, four wolves today and most of the Thalmor soldiers we have found she and Nelacar have killed. You haven’t killed one.”

“Killing others does not make you Arch-Mage,” J’zargo said almost in a hiss. Brelyna snorted.

“No, but it shows they have much more skill in magic than us!” she fought back. “If anyone was going to be named it… it would be Alla!”

She looked to them, shocked. “E-Excuse me?”

J’zargo’s ears went back. “Alla would not make a good Arch-Mage. She already has a title, she does not need two.”

Onmund looked up from his bread. “That’s your basis on why? That’s so stupid! She can be Arch-Mage and dragonborn too!” He protested and Alla pressed her tongue against her cheek. Funny how no one was bothering to ask her opinion.

As if he read her thoughts, J’zargo spoke. “Alla does not want to be Arch-Mage, yes? It would not suit Alla.”

She had enough and stood up, rolling her eyes. “I’m not getting involved. I’m going to bed,” she said, dropping a few septims down. “You guys can bicker amongst yourself but be up before dawn. We can cover more ground if we leave as soon as possible.”

Nelacar downed his drink. “I think I’ll turn in for the night as well.”

She smiled as he got up and she waited for him so they could go to their room together, him shutting the door behind them as J’zargo began to protest again making Brelyna scoff in irritation. He chuckled and she rolled her eyes, pulling off her stained and dirty robes. “You’re friends are quite interesting.”

“Try being with them for longer than three days,” she said as she hung her robes over the chair in the room, digging for her shirt when he came up behind her and touched her shoulders. She stopped and leaned back against him and he kissed the top of her head.

“You’re making the right decision.”

She sighed. “I don’t like it,” she admitted. “I would rather keep going but you’re right. They can’t keep up. I’m used to travelling long and far but it’s not for everyone and we need to go back.”

He kissed down near her temple and she sighed, savouring his touch before she turned and grabbed his robes, forcing him to the bed. She shoved him down, his body hitting the straw hard and she crawled on top of him, biting her lip in a come-hither look for a second to look innocent but he didn’t take the bait.

“The doors here aren’t as sound proof as the ones in Winterhold,” he said and she paused, hearing the dull chatter outside making her shrug.

“Be quiet then.”

“Excuse me?” he said in irritation making her giggle. “I’m not the one who shouts so… inappropriately all the time.”

She leaned down over him, her hands moving over his chest before they curled near his neck, stroking his golden skin. “I can’t help it. You really turn me on, Nelacar.”

He flushed but didn’t say anything more allowing her to move up a bit to kiss him. He let her, cupping the back of her head and she moaned against him, her nearly naked body shivering a bit which made him switch their positions so she was against the pelts below. She wrapped her arms around his neck, happy to finally have some alone time with the mage when a knocking made her groan. She flopped down, irritated while he took a moment to compose himself before he went to the door.

It opened before he could get to it, Enthir walking in making her get up from the bed. “E-Enthir?! Enthir, what the fuck!?” she spat, grabbing the pelts to bring up around her body. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

“Alla, get your crap. You have to come back with us, now.”

She stared at him then up to Nelacar who was frowning before she moved. “Enthir, what’s this about? Why are you here?”

“I was sent to get you,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Look, grab your shit. We need to go.”

“Why? I paid for-”

“The Thalmor are coming,” he cut in which made her stare. “Look, all you need to know is Faralda and I were sent to find you and your little entourage and along the way we stumbled across what you’ve been doing just as some Thalmor did. Long story short, they’re fucking pissed and you’re in a fucking lot of trouble.”

She got up and grabbed her robes, tugging them on, her cheeks hot. “How do they know it was us? And why should I care?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he moved to grab her bag, looking up to his friend who was frowning from where he was standing. “Maybe the fact that a group of mages from the college killing Thalmor agents attracts attention? And you should care, you stupid girl. Don’t you understand? The college could come under attack yet again by you provoking a war!”

She bit her lip. Okay, granted, she didn’t think of that. She took her bag from him, throwing it over her shoulder and he looked to Nelacar. “Sorry for cock-blocking you.”

“W-We weren’t-”

“How did you find us? And get here so fast?” she cut in as she walked out, looking to see Faralda standing by the fire, her three friends waiting awkwardly as if they had been caught stealing sweet rolls from the guards. Enthir moved past her.

“We followed the bodies. And we’re on horses,” he said, moving to exit with her in tow. Faralda came after with the three apprentice mages and Nelacar took up the rear. In front of the Inn were two black mares, quiet as they stood with their heads low as the wind blew their manes over their faces.

"Where did you get these?” she asked and Enthir looked back at her.

“Baby, do you have to ask?”

She shoved him and went down the steps before something occurred to her. “How are we supposed to get back? There’s two horses and seven of us.”

Enthir sighed and looked to Faralda who pursed her lips. She finally spoke. “We need to take you back first, Alla. That was the command. Mirabelle should be awake-”

“W-What?” she cut in making her stop. “D-Did you say Mirabelle? She’s alive?”

Her friends immediately looked to Faralda who blinked. “W…Well yes. She’s alive. But you are the first priority-”

She didn’t have time for this. She needed to see the Master Wizard. “Enthir, come on. Faralda! Take Onmund! His arm is hurt and he needs to see Colette immediately. Nelacar, here’s my pack. It has fifteen potions of healing inside and about a dozen magicka ones as well. Take J’zargo and Brelyna now, head along the beach and don’t stop. My map is in there too.”

She immediately started directing them, moving to mount the one mare as she waited impatiently for Enthir. He raised his brows but came to her side. Faralda didn’t look pleased but she did as asked and Alla took the reins, turning the mare as she looked to J’zargo and Brelyna. They stared at her, quiet.

“Nelacar, take care of them or so help me, I will kill you.”

He flushed. “We’ll be fine.”

She didn’t wait any longer and kicked the mare making Enthir spit and grab her waist as the beast reared and whinnied into the wind. It took off strong, rushing down the path and the guards shouted at her as she went past, her eyes on the path ahead as she tore through down and moved along the beach.

Behind her Faralda and Onmund mounted their horse and they chased after them, the lights of Dawnstar being lit as the twilight sky began to take over the sky. She rode with her head down a bit, Enthir gripping her stomach and when the mare had to slow she turned to look at him.

“How did she survive?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes forward. “Alla, honestly, what were you thinking going out to slaughter the Thalmor? How could you not foresee what this would do!?”

She pursed her lips. “I was angry.”

He sighed. “Yes, because you know how rational you are when you’re angry,” he said but she didn’t reply. “Alla… You could have brought a war upon us which we can’t fight.”

“Do you know what Ancano said to me before he died?” she asked and she could feel his eyes on her as she stared out at the wilderness. “He told me his men would come shortly to execute every last one of us. We had no chance. There was no point in killing him because we were all marked for dead anyways.”

He was quiet but his grip around her waist tightened. “Do you believe him?”

“I didn’t want to find out,” she said and they rode in silence, Faralda catching up and once the mares were ready they pushed them hard again and ran over the glaciers that rose up from the Winterhold shores.

 

\-------

 

She was sick again that morning. She had been pulled from her sleep from this odd feeling around her, like a ward protecting her but when she opened her eyes nothing was there. Instead she felt her stomach twist and she had grabbed the bucket to expel her stomach contents. Not that there was much anyways.

It was a hassle, bending over the bucket but once she had finished she felt a bit relieved. Her time in bed probably took a greater toll on her than she realized and she struggled a bit dressing before she went out of her room into the second floor hall searching out the staff but there was no one to be found. She did however find the kitchen in poor stock with barely any food left for a week.

She frowned and made a note as she went down and out of the Hall of Attainment, the wind whipping through her robes and she shivered, quickly crossing the courtyard. When she made it into the Hall of Elements she was covered in a cold sweat, her breathing heavy and body aching. She may have pushed herself too hard but there was no point in going back.

She instead took to climbing the stairs to the Arcanaeum, panting by the time she got to the top and the library was empty. Well, save for Urag but he never left his beloved books. She smoothed back her hair and tried to make sure she didn’t look too sickly before she walked forward and the Orc looked up from his chair behind the large spruce desk, his black eyes not recognizing her at first.

He stood up respectfully. “Mirabelle. You’re up.”

“That I am, Urag,” she said softly as she came to look at him from in front of his desk, the edge coming up to her chest. “Have you seen the other staff members? I can’t find them.”

He thought for a moment. “They might be in town. I heard word that Alla and the Nord have returned. Apparently that expelled Altmer is leading back the Khajiit and Brelyna since they couldn’t fit on the horses.”

She pursed her lips and tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk. So Nelacar was with her. No doubt she had convinced him to follow since she was aware of the both of them engaging in a relationship of sorts. The Imperial, Alla, had an odd way with the old mage just as she had a suspicious relationship with Enthir but that was all beside the point. Half of the mages were back which is what mattered.

She turned, determined to go down to the town and see what the news was when Urag stood. “You’re not going down there are you?”

She paused. “Of course I am, Urag. Students have been missing and it’s my job to discipline them and/or make sure they’re safe,” she said in an authoritative tone. He came out from behind the desk, his frame large as he went to her side and he offered her arm which she flushed at.

“You can try and hide it but I know you’re not feeling well. You just woke up yesterday, Mirabelle. Don’t overexert yourself.”

She softened a bit. “Thank you, Urag.”

They didn’t have to go far as the party was coming into the courtyard when Urag led Mirabelle out. All five professors were leading the dragonborn mage through the gate, her head held high as she entered and behind her Onmund walked, his arm in a sling. Mirabelle stopped, disappointed when she saw them but the Imperial acted differently. As soon as she saw her she began to run forward, her eyes wide.

Urag had to let go of her when the mage’s arms were thrown around her neck nearly causing her to collapse. “T-Thank the divines!” the girl cried. “I-I thought you died, Mirabelle! I thought that fucking bastard Thalmor killed you!”

She stiffened at the hug, trying hard to pry her off but her strength wasn’t in her. She wasn’t used to such affection. “A-Alla… Alla, let go. Please,” she said in a cold tone but the girl didn’t relent. “Alla, as one of the faculty I demand you let go! This is inappropriate and you are in a lot of trouble!”

She drew back, her expression hardening and Mirabelle sighed, feeling a bit guilty and dizzy. Urag came to her side and she gladly leaned on him, staring at the girl before Onmund joined making him subject to her disapproval as well. The Professors surrounded them, save for Faralda and she frowned but let it go. She was sure the sorceress was possibly somewhere.

“Alla, what were you thinking?” she started, angry. “Are you trying to get this college destroyed? How foolish do you have to be to go after the Thalmor?!”

“I had to,” she said plainly. “We were threatened.”

“Threatened?” she said, unaware of this. She looked to the professors who shrugged and Tolfdir spoke.

“Alla, my dear, threatened how?”

Onmund spoke up for her. “Ancano said we all were going to be executed. He said we were all marked so even if he was killed, the college would fall.”

There was a silence and Mirabelle said nothing but her heart pounded at the words. “Onmund, did you hear him say this?”

“He didn’t, but I did,” Alla said, her eyes set forward on her. “I didn’t think about provoking a war, I left because I didn’t want anyone to come and destroy the college. Not after we already lost…” she hesitated. Mirabelle said nothing but her lips pressed thin. “It doesn’t matter. I take responsibility for this. Onmund, Brelyna, and J’zargo heard I was leaving and they insisted on coming. If the Thalmor come, point them to me. I’ve been the one slaughtering their patrols.”

“I will do no such thing,” Mirabelle said, annoyed, her mind working quickly at the information she had been given. What a disaster. “The Thalmor aren’t stupid. They won’t see this as you attacking them to prevent something, they will see it as all of us not only killing an Agent but murdering patrols as well as if we were… Some common bunch of Sellswords. Giving you up won’t satisfy them and I would never do such a thing either!”

Alla frowned at her, her eyes odd as they focused on her. “I know the Thalmor, Mirabelle and they’re well acquainted with me ever since I may have destroyed the Embassy.” Mirabelle gaped at her. Heavens above. She had to reach up to rub her temples delicately as she felt a headache looming. “If you say it was me, they’ll back off. And it was. I killed Ancano, I killed most of the patrols all to protect us in case Ancano wasn’t bluffing on having us all marked for death. Present me to them and the college will be safe.”

“No,” she said again. “You saved the college from Ancano who was intent on annihilating us and the realm. I will not let them take you to be tortured over actions that needed to be taken. But killing the patrols… Gods above. You… You foolish child!” She didn’t know what to do about that.

“Mirabelle,” Phinis said which made her look up. “You know… it’s not exactly a crime to kill the Thalmor in Winterhold. The Hold is under the Stormcloaks and they look the other way when this type of thing happens.”

Tolfdir responded first. “Yes, but that’s the Stormcloaks. We are not aligned with them and the Thalmor do not bend to anyone. If they know their patrols are being murdered by students, they will still come regardless of the faction ruling.”

“They know,” both Onmund and Alla said at the same time. There was a silence and Mirabelle struggled to fix this even more when Alla spoke up again.

“Give me to them.”

“No,” she said again though she was getting tempted.

“Then what will you do if they come?” she asked and she said nothing, holding on to Urag’s arm tight as she felt weak again. She closed her eyes, struggling with herself and Urag leaned over, holding her arm.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said in his gruff voice making her look to him. “Come on. Back to your room. You can deal with these pipsqueaks later.”

“Urag,” Alla said annoyed and he glared at her making her become silent.

“If those damn elves come and my library is touched, I’ll kill you before they even find where I tossed your body,” he growled and she opened her mouth to say something but Onmund kicked her making her stop. He started leading her back to the Hall of Attainment, some of the professors following and Tolfdir took her when they got close letting Urag return back to the Arcanaeum.

Mirabelle sighed. “I’m fine, I really am. Just a little tired. There’s no need to fuss.”

“Nonsense, Mirabelle. This is a lot to take in and this is only your second day after waking,” he said and she pursed her lips. It took a considerable effort to get up the stairs and she didn’t enjoy being corralled into her room but when her back hit her bed it was like a weight lifted from her. She relaxed, breathing hard for a minute before she calmed down and focused. Tolfdir and Colette were in her room but outside were the professors and the two students waiting.

She leaned back against her pillow still thinking. “We negotiate,” she finally said and they all looked at her. “If the Thalmor do come, we will negotiate between them over this. They owe us for Ancano’s recklessness. He killed our Arch-Mage, wounded me and we had no choice but to take him out. If they inquire, our students were emotionally unstable after. They thought I was dead and went to take revenge as any group of stupid children would.”

“But we killed more than one patrol in revenge,” Alla pointed out and she pursed her lips.

“Don’t bring that up. In fact, you two are to be quiet about this and let me handle it.”

“What about the Agent who tried to kill Alla in Labyrinthian?” Onmund said and she stopped to stare at him. She looked to Alla who flushed and her fingers moved to her side, touching it delicately for a slight second.

“What Agent?”

“It’s nothing,” she hissed. “That Agent is dead and his body lies shamed in the catacombs of that accursed tomb. No one would dare go in there.” She thought for a moment before she left, moving past Drevis as she went to the stairs. Mirabelle took the time to sigh, rubbing her temples.

“Are there any other Thalmor deaths we should know about?” she asked and none of them spoke. She felt her stomach hurt again and she rubbed herself making Colette perk up.

“Do you need me to use my magic?” she asked and Mirabelle shook her head. It wasn’t something a healing spell could fix. She was sure she wasn’t bleeding, just stress irritating her stomach.

Alla came back holding a staff and they made way for her. Mirabelle stared as she came to her side holding it out. “The Staff of Magnus,” she said automatically and the young mage nodded. She handed it to her and she delicately took it, staring at the orb tangled in shaped wood, magic pulsing under the bark. She could feel how powerful it was despite being light and it pulled her back to her initial fear where the girl had been.

She recalled what Tolfdir had told her and she looked to the mage; no, the dragonborn. “What was down there in Labyrinthian?”

She sighed and pulled out something else. It was a mask carved from what looked like silver but when she focused it was aged Moonstone. “This is Morokei’s mask. He was the Dragon Priest who had the Staff of Magnus down in the heart of that tomb and where two of Savos’ old acquaintances…” she trailed off again and Mirabelle looked to her. She sighed. “The Staff is yours, Mirabelle. The Arch-Mage should have it. It’s what that Thalmor Agent Estormo wanted when we fought and I killed him. He was under Ancano’s instruction so I don’t know if the Thalmor are looking for him or not.”

She wanted to protest the Arch-Mage comment but pressed her lips together tight instead, thinking of this Agent she wasn’t aware of. She held the staff, looking it over before she leaned it up next to her bed, folding her hands as she thought.

“We’ll ignore that Agent for now. If it comes up, I will point out it was life or death for a student. This is still the same. If they come, we negotiate, we do not provoke a war,” she stated and there was a silence but a mutual agreement. “For now, everyone stay in the college. We’ll ask the guards to deliver supplies so that none of our students or staff are ambushed in revenge. We cannot be too careful. I will try and contact the Embassy to explain the situation to establish a communication so this can be worked out as soon as possible. Do not engage in any more killings, understand? Nor do you talk about this.”

The door shut downstairs and she paused, listening, as footsteps sounded on the stones. She waited and the professors turned letting Faralda come. Mirabelle relaxed when she saw the sorceress, the Altmer letting out a small sigh as she slid up to Drevis who looked at her with a smile. She gave him a small smile back.

“Where’s Enthir?” Serguis asked and she looked to him.

“He went to grab the other students and that disgraced mage,” she said and Mirabelle sighed. She prayed they would make it back and that nothing would attack them. “Why? What’s going on?”

“We’re not to talk about what the students did,” he replied and she folded her arms.

“Who made that decision?”

“I did,” Mirabelle said and the mage went quiet. She sighed suddenly feeling tired and she didn’t explain more, turning instead on Tolfdir who was looking at Faralda. “Tolfdir, there’s hardly any food in the hall. Send out an order right away as well as purchases for more Soul Gems and alchemy ingredients. We need to replenish all potions on campus for an emergency as well as start generating income in. Travellers still rely on us for Enchantments and Spell Tomes and we rely on their coin.”

He looked down to her, taking it in and he nodded. “Right. I’ll go do that right now,” he said, moving out of her room and she focused on Drevis.

“Drevis, all the focus points need to be cleaned. Can you do that? We need all the mage lights lit and the focus points in all the Halls cleared so there is absolutely the maximum amount of light in the rooms and outside,” she commanded and the instructor gave a nod.

“I’ll get my gloves,” he said, leaving and she looked to Phinis.

“Phinis, take the students and get them to clean the Hall of Elements. There was damage from Ancano and the structure needs to be checked before experiments and classes commence. Colette, I need you to go and retool your curriculum. Every student needs to have the basic healing spells on themselves and their peers mastered before two months pass,” she said before focusing on Faralda. “Faralda? Can you man the gate again?”

She nodded and turned to go and Phinis followed her, snapping at Alla and Onmund to follow. Onmund frowned as he followed. “My arm is still hurt,” he said and Alla looked at him.

“You can still hold a broom, Onmund.”

Mirabelle sighed and she rubbed her stomach again. Colette remained by her side for a while until she stared at her and the aloof mage got up to go do her task, lips thin as she did. She knew she was worried about her but the students learning the basics were the biggest priority now. That left Serguis and he came to her side.

“I suspect you wish me to do some enchanting?”

“Yes. As much as you can so we can get some money in. I am worried, Serguis, over the Thalmor coming. We’re low on a lot of things and if they don’t want to negotiate it may get ugly,” she said. He merely nodded.

“Leave it to me, Mirabelle. Just take it easy. You’re not well enough to resume your tasks so adamantly,” he said and she sighed but didn’t complain. “This will all work out, I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” she replied and he left leaving her alone. She sunk back in her bed and found herself drifting off. 

She was woken close to midnight by Faralda who was wearing a long, dark fur around herself. “Mirabelle? A message came by courier. It’s marked for the Arch-Mage but since Savos has passed, I assume that falls to you?”

She leaned up, rubbing her eyes and she took the note, flipping it over. Her breath caught as she recognized the seal. It was from the Embassy. Faralda stared at her, waiting, as if she was going to tell but she waved her off. “Thank you, Faralda, you can take your leave.”

She said nothing but looked a little displeased when she left. She opened the letter, lighting a candle near her bed and she read the beautiful script she recognized as the Ambassador’s. They had become aware more than a few of their agents being killed by mages from the college and were displeased and coming to see what had happened. She closed the letter, a deep worry flooding her mind and she found herself re-reading the letter.

It was sent by courier a day ago. From Solitude, it would possibly be a six day trip, maybe more if the road to Morthal was being blocked by bandits again but it didn’t give her a lot of time. She had to get up and find Tolfdir who was sleeping in his chair in his bedroom. “Tolfdir? Tolfdir, wake up,” she pleaded.

He snapped up, looking disorientated before he focused on her. “Mirabelle? My dear, what are you doing up?”

“The Thalmor are coming,” she said in a serious tone and he stopped, looking to her. He sobered immediately and she handed him the letter. He was quiet as he read it and after he did he folded it neatly to hand back to her. “We need to prepare.”

He nodded. “Brelyna, J’zargo, and Enthir came back this evening. We’ll start classes right away.”

“Send a letter out to Arniel and Nirya in Markarth. Tell them to stay there then see if you can’t find some parchment around here,” she said. “I need to make sure if the Thalmor are willing to negotiate, we can somehow do it without insulting them or hurting us.”

“Right,” he agreed and he paused, thinking. “Mirabelle, you should move to the Arch-Mage’s quarters.” She stared at him, blank and he moved tried to reassure her. “You are the Arch-Mage, we can’t delay on that any longer. You should make it yours before they come and we’ll all get into order.”

She sighed but nodded. “Inform the staff. And Tolfdir?” he looked to her. “You’re no longer solely a Professor. I need you as Master Wizard under me.”

He stared at her but nodded. “I won’t disappoint, Arch-Mage.”

“Just make sure you don’t lose my stuff as much as you lose your alembic,” she said and she went back to her room, unable to sleep. There was too much to do and as the night went on she found herself becoming stressed. She had never met the Ambassador and no doubt Ancano’s body would be brought up.

She found herself throwing up come morning, her stomach sick and her head light. This was starting to worry her and she held her stomach, rubbing it. A thought came into her head and she pursed her lips. She had to go see Colette.

\--

She snuck out during the night, propping pillows in her bed in case anyone came in her room and she had to drop down from a broken part of the walkway when she saw Faralda standing guard, her mind on only one thing. She weaved around the back of the town and came into the Frozen Hearth through the door as if she had walked from Windhelm. The Inn was silent, Dagur getting ready to call it a night and she quickly crossed the floor to go into Nelacar’s room.

He was laying down inside and she shut the door, pulling her cloak off. He moved on his bed, shocked and she went to his side, her lips immediately on him making him flush. “A-Alla, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she said, kicking off her wet boots as she climbed on top of him making him flush even more. “I saw Enthir and he told me he went and brought you back with Brelyna and J’zargo.”

He pursed his lips. “Yes… Thankfully. Your little Khajiit friend has quick fingers. I think stole some potions from me,” he complained and she smiled.

“He probably did,” she shrugged but that wasn’t what she was concerned about. She started tugging at his belt making him flush. “Nelacar… I have to thank you. I really fucked up.” He looked to her and she chewed her lip. “I was trying to protect the college but I think I may have caused something worse to happen. And if you didn’t reign me in, I probably would still be killing patrols.”

He was silent but his hand moved up to rubbing her neck and shoulders. She leaned into it biting her lip as a shiver went down her back. “I know you were upset over everything that happened and we did try and warn you,” he reminded her which made her feel guilty, her legs tightening around him making him grunt. “But it’s done. Besides, this may have happened anyways. The Thalmor may have marched here regardless since one of their top Agents being killed isn’t something they would take lightly.”

She sighed not believing him but he was trying making her feel better. She reached up and held his hands to her body before she moved them down to her breasts. He tried hard not to squeeze but she encouraged him, rolling her hips on his body. “They’re locking down the college too so I may not see you for a while.”

He looked up at her and she stared at him. “For how long?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted and he did nothing, thinking before she was grabbed and turned swiftly making her yelp. He pressed her against his bed, his mouth on hers and she immediately grabbed his neck, sinking into the kiss. When they parted she let out a little pant, flushing. “Nelacar. Don’t stop tonight, alright? No matter what.”

He flushed at her words but nodded. “If that’s what you want, I won’t. E-Even if someone comes in...”

She giggled at him, tugging him down to kiss the side of his neck. “I think Enthir is sleeping so we won’t have to worry about it,” she said lightly. “And if the Thalmor come, just keep going. So they can see what a real superior Mer looks like.”

He let out an embarrassed laugh. “Y-Yeah, right.”

“Come on, Nelacar. Less talking, more fucking,” she purred and she leaned up to push his hood back so she could nip at his ears making him shake, his hair tied back which let her scratch behind them. He let out a pant and she grinned but she was pinned down before she could do more.

“How did you get to have such a filthy mouth?”

“Fucking soldiers,” she smirked and he sighed. “Don’t worry. None of them compare to you. You fit in me just right…” she teased and he turned red. She grabbed his hand and moved it down between her legs. “Now are we going to have some fun or are you going to keep talking?”

Her mouth was covered as he gave her his answer.

She woke aching, her body curled against his and the wall and she looked down at him, her fingers moving to stroke his cheek. He was still in the throes of sleep and she reached up to stroke his light hair, kissing his neck before she moved to his bare shoulder. He muttered something in his sleep and she smiled but kept up her exploring.

She eventually shoved him on his back, licking at his cock which started to stir before he did and she rewarded him with getting him off just as he woke, his groans making her flush. She swallowed, licking her fingers after and he touched her back as he relaxed, the pelts shifting against his body.

She straddled him, wanting one more go before she headed back to the college. He gave her a look and she just smiled rolling her hips against him. “I don’t really want to go,” she admitted and he smiled.

“I’m sure it won’t be long. The College never isolates itself for more than a few weeks,” he said and she sighed but accepted it. She took one last turn with him, biting his neck rather hard as she did to keep from alerting the patrons out in the hall and she parted from him with a kiss, leaving him her panties hidden in his boots as a gift.

Faralda wasn’t pleased to see her coming back but she didn’t say anything. She merely rolled her eyes and she was allowed back in, making her way over the stones back to the entrance.

She was immediately found and hauled into the Hall of Elements by Serguis. “Mirabelle’s been looking for you! We thought you were kidnapped!”

“I-I went out to see a friend!” she snapped and he scoffed.

“You mean you went to see that mage in the Inn. You know he killed a student?”

“No he didn’t,” she snapped. “His damn mentor did. He had nothing to do with it!”

Serguis said nothing but she was pushed up the Arch-Mage’s stairs, her protests ignored as she found herself on the second storey landing. Mirabelle was standing in front of the small garden that had mage lights dancing around it, a small table being set up in front of it by Enthir. She turned when she heard her snap at Serguis and she found herself standing awkwardly before the new Arch-Mage, the Staff of Magnus hung from the wall behind glass. That was fast she mused.

“Alla,” Mirabelle said moving to her making her pause. “You went out, I hear.”

She frowned. “Yes.”

She didn’t look pleased but she didn’t press it. “Don’t do it again. We’re in lock-down from now and all classes are mandatory,” she stated and she nodded. Alright. If she was called up just for that it seemed really pointless. Mirabelle seemed to sense it. “The Thalmor are coming within a week. And the Ambassador will be accompanying them and she is not impressed.”

She felt a chill run down her spine. Elenwen was coming? Great. The last time she had contact with the Ambassador she had torn up her Embassy and may have made some comments about her that she wasn’t impressed about during the meeting she attended with the Greybeards. The new Arch-Mage picked up on her less than impressed expressions.

“What do you know of the Ambassador?”

Alla laughed. “She doesn’t like it when you compliment her ass,” she said and Mirabelle stared at her. She stopped laughing and cleared her throat. “She’s cutthroat. She’s good at what she doesn’t and she relentless when she wants something. She’s a former torturer and well versed in psychological warfare so don’t try and play her. She’ll know and it won’t go over well.”

Mirabelle didn’t seem pleased. “How well versed in psychological warfare?”

Alla sighed as she recalled that frustrating meeting. “She solely showed up at a meeting to set off the Stormcloaks with her presence and after it was done I saw her get close to Ulfric Stormcloak and she just said a few words to him and he left angrier than I’ve ever seen him. She knows how to get under your skin so chances are she’s researched the college already or she’s just that type of personality.”

She paused after a thought of the assassins sent after her. “Then again, she could just walk in here, demand for changes and leave. Or kill us all.”

The Arch-Mage sighed and walked back towards the table Enthir was now placing chairs around. Alla came forward, giving her friend a look and he mimed exhaustion making her smile. She cut it off as soon as Mirabelle turned around.

“Alla, this may be a stupid move, or a smart one depending but I may call you to the negotiations when Elenwen comes.”

“Uh,” she said. She seemed to share her sentiments.

“It’s a risk but if they come out and attack, I need you by my side. You are the dragonborn and you do have a history with them but I’m hoping this can be diplomatic. You seem to know her best. Just don’t say anything stupid. Or maybe, don’t speak at all.”

“…Right.”

She sighed and sat down in a chair, rubbing her temples in pain and Alla frowned looking to Enthir who frowned as well. “Mirabelle, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said in a sharp tone. “You two are dismissed. Go to class and don’t you dare leave the grounds.”

They both nodded and headed to the stairs together, Enthir elbowing her making her shove him and they exited to the Hall of Elements. J’zargo and Onmund were already in the large atrium and they joined them watching as J’zargo lectured the young Nord on the proper way to wrap a bandage which seemed to be irritating him.

Enthir nudged her. “You went and saw Nelacar?”

“I did,” she said.

“You going to be able to survive without him for a while?”

She scoffed. “By the sounds of it, I might not survive the Thalmor visit. Elenwen doesn’t like me, especially when she found out I may have fucked most of her staff at Northwatch.”

“You slutty bitch,” he smirked and she slapped his side but she grinned as she did.

“Funny, they told me the same thing but that sort of stopped after I took on four of them at once,” she said but her face fell as she realized her situation. Elenwen is coming. She could maybe deal with her one on one but with an entourage no doubt following and in an enclosed area such as the college with a new Arch-Mage she was worried. She sighed internally. Fucking Ancano. If she could she would kill him twice. This was all his damn fault.

“Enthir? If I die, tell Nelacar he was the second-best fuck of my life,” she said and he looked at her.

“The second best?”

She bit her lip. “Alright, maybe leave that out. Just tell him he was great.”

He shook his head, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched as Brelyna came in holding a stack of books, scowling when J’zargo tried to see them. “Who was the best then?”

She pressed her lips as she thought of the dead Altmer, the casualty of not only when she infiltrated the Embassy and used him which caused him trouble but also of the meeting between Ulfric and Tullius. “Ondolemar, the Thalmor Agent who worked in Markarth.”

 

\-------

 

Mirabelle stared at Colette, her new quarters empty of any forms of life save for the garden that had mage lights watching over it. “No, you must be mistaken,” she repeated and the mage gave her an annoyed look. “I can’t be pregnant.”

“Well, you can because you are!” she said, folding her arms. She said nothing, looking away to stare at the twisted tree as her heart began to pound.

“How?!” she asked, mostly to herself but the little mage answered.

“Well, if I have to recount to you the mechanics of sex-”

She held up her hand and she could feel a headache coming on. “Rhetorical question, Colette. It’s just… do you know how far along I am?”

She relaxed and went to pick up the sample she had experimented with, shaking it back and forth before she moved to check her stomach. After deliberating for a moment she seemed to have an answer. “I believe you are one and a half to two months? It’s not a direct estimation but I think it’s the best I can give you.”

She said nothing and her cheeks turned a bit red. So around the last time she and Ancano had engaged in their affair in his chambers before he went and sabotaged them. She knew it was his, there was no doubt, but it was still a shock to her. Then again if she actually stopped thinking with her muddled emotions it was surprising it didn’t happen earlier. They had increased their encounters significantly after the Eye had been brought in since most of the staff and students congregated around it leaving the place empty for them but she still didn’t think it could happen.

She pressed a hand on her stomach as a new worry came over her. The child, no matter the gender, would take her race but would they act as their father? What if there were Altmer features that came out? It wasn’t uncommon. What if someone asked who the father was? What if the Thalmor found out she was having a dead Agent’s child?

She pressed a finger to her temple, sighing and Colette came to sit down next to her. “Mirabelle, are you alright?”

“Yes, just thinking,” she reassured her and she noticed the mage leaning over almost eagerly. “Yes?”

“Who is the father?” she said and her cheeks went red. Colette immediately leaned back. “Is it Savos?”

Her mouth dropped open. “N-No! No, of course not!” she flushed red at her words. Savos? She never even thought of him like that. She respected the man greatly and did worry about him as he often lapsed into silences which she now started to suspect had to do with what Alla found in Labyrinthian but she was never attracted to him sexually.

Ancano was just different. He was infuriating. Everything about him was pompous and aggravating and more than once they had almost sparred but he was an absolute demon in the sack. That seemed to be the only thing they did enjoy about each other, other than their hot debates which usually led to him pounding her on her bed. It was a purely sexual and emotionally riled relationship but she still missed him.

Having his child now seemed so odd. She noticed Colette was still watching her and she sighed. “It’s no staff member either. Or student!”

“Do you know who the father is?” she asked instead and she felt her ears burn. She wanted to say yes but saying that would only bring more questions, more lies, and she found herself gritting her teeth.

“No.”

The mage seemed shocked but didn’t press further. Well, until she had to ask another difficult question. “Do you want the baby, Mirabelle?”

It wasn’t as if that didn’t cross her mind for a brief moment but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to linger on it. Now that she was asked she had to and she tapped her fingers on the table, her lips pressed thin.

She never even conceived having a child. Her goals in life had been to become Arch-Mage, if she ever got the chance, keep the college running smoothly and master all the spells she could before she died. She never thought about children because that was what others had. The folk of Winterhold had children to leave their name, property, and legacy to and she had her spells.

Was that what she wanted? To die without anyone to leave her things to? Would she even be a good mother to begin with? She hadn’t the slightest clue about children other than they didn’t like it when you told them to stay away from places they shouldn’t go. How would she even feed a baby? How would she deal with being Arch-Mage and having a child?

“I need to think about it,” she finally said as she started getting overwhelmed and Colette sighed.

“Don’t take too long. I don’t know if I can terminate it if you wish if you delay any longer,” she said bluntly and she merely nodded, shocked but let her start to grab her things. “Sorry, I have a class soon. The students seem to not be understanding how to heal others very well.”

She stopped thinking about her stress over a child and she turned to the mage, her words running through her mind. “Do all the students know the spell for healing others?”

Colette stopped. “…I don’t know. Maybe that’s the problem?” she muttered and she left leaving Mirabelle to rub at her temples. 

The child in her womb was making her stressed more than she realized. She didn’t know anything about caring for anyone else that wasn’t at least an adult and if she birthed the child what was she to do? How did you care for one? How could she have let this happen?

It wasn’t like he came inside all the time. He did a few times and she had cleaned herself up after. She cursed herself for taking such stupid risks, her fists pressing into her eyes when she thought of the Imperial mage of the college. Alla was always sneaking away or leaving on trips to rendezvous with Nelacar or some other Altmer in Riften or whoever the Altmer in Markath was that she slept with as she recalled her bragging to Enthir. Yet she wasn’t pregnant.

She needed to find her and ask. Just for some sort of starting ground on how to fix her mistake – or so she was telling herself as she was stressed out now and needing air and someone to talk to. She got up and left her chambers finding the Hall of Elements empty and Onmund and Brelyna chatting outside next to a column standing close to each other. She looked to them but brushed it off as she crossed the courtyard to the Hall of Attainment and inside found J’zargo looking in the cupboards of the mess hall. She went to Alla’s bedroom and found it empty and she went upstairs hoping she was dining. No such luck.

Enthir saw her and leaned against his doorway. “Looking for someone, Arch-Mage?”

She sighed. “Yes, have you seen Alla?”

“She’s down in the Midden,” Enthir said and she stared at him.

“The Midden!? Whatever for?” she found herself asking and the Bosmer frowned as he folded his arms to think.

“I don’t know. She usually goes down there to fuck around. Although, I think it does lead out of the college too at some point so she could have escaped to go…”

She left without hearing the end. That damned Imperial better not have left the grounds. She was the student she worried about the most considering she was probably the most desired by the Thalmor. Also being the dragonborn did make her a target for other things. Unbeknownst to a lot of the staff, she had been approached by high generals from both sides of the armies seeking her out and she had turned them off the college grounds.

The girl was wanted and not always for good reasons and right now, she needed to talk to her. She crossed the courtyard to the Hall of Countenance and fled down into the Midden without a word to anyone inside.

\--

Alla stood before the Atronarch forge, holding up the salt pile as she read through her worn notes. She didn’t know what she wanted to make. Magic was her forte but with the fucking Thalmor coming she knew if her magic failed her she needed to fall back on something else. She wasn’t a fan of bows considering how arrows tended to run out but she could hold a sword. First, however, she needed to complete her initial task. She tossed the salt in, added an amethyst and soul gem before she shut the tiny hatch letting the forge work. A stench of something awful burning filled her lungs and she coughed, grabbing a cloth to hold over her mouth as she waited.

The hatch opened after a short amount of time and she put on a glove as she pulled out a handful of void salts, pouring them into a shallow bowl. She set them aside and pulled out some stuff from her pack, dropping a ruined book on the ground unceremoniously before she plucked out a deathbell and a mammoth tusk. She checked her notes again sighing in uncertainty as they were smudged and she really didn’t know if this was correct when footsteps drew her attention up.

She stood, turning to look at the entrances and she saw shadows moving before she saw Mirabelle come stomping down looking frustrated and exhausted. She raised her eyebrows in shock. “Mirabelle?”

“There you are!” she huffed as she came to her side, kicking the water off her boots which were soaking. “What in the fifteen daedric realms are you doing down here?!”

She said nothing but her eyes moved to the forge which made the Arch-Mage look as well. She frowned, not knowing what it was and she gave a shrug. “I’m just experimenting. I haven’t left the college grounds, technically. And you told us all to work.”

She said nothing but there was obvious displeasure in her eyes. She sighed and moved some of her stuff away waiting for the Arch-Mage to speak. “What do you need?”

It was Mirabelle’s turn to hesitate and she took a moment to compose herself before looking her straight in the eye. “Alla, this may be odd and a bit… awkward but I just need some quick answers.”

“Alright.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated again, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “You… You sleep with a lot of men, don’t you?”

She bristled at her words. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a lecture. She heard enough of that shit from Nelacar. “I sleep with who I want, yes.”

She picked up on her coldness. “I’m not judging you, Alla, I just… this is extremely uncomfortable for me to talk about,” she said and she looked to the Arch-Mage. She did seem very out of sorts. “How do you prevent yourself from getting pregnant?”

She stared at her and she found herself laughing a bit. Okay, now she saw why. “I drink a potion,” she shrugged.

“A potion?” she said almost shocked before her eyes drew down. “Yes, that would make sense. What sort of potion?”

She turned back to the forge, kicking the ruined book and the ratty cover peeled a bit making her reach down and pick it up to toss into the hatch before it disintegrated more. “A potion of poison. I usually keep a small stock in all my places of residence.”

She seemed shocked. “You poison yourself!?”

She shrugged again, flushing. This was starting to feel like her mother was lecturing her. “What else am I going to do? I can’t have a baby! I’m the dragonborn and I sleep with a bunch of Altmer’s! I can’t imagine that hybrid going over well.”

“No…” she said quietly behind her and she looked over her shoulder at the Arch-Mage who was holding her stomach with a pained look on her face.

“Mirabelle, is something-?”

“I’m pregnant,” she breathed out before she covered her face with her hands, sighing. She gawked at her before the Breton began to pace, agitated. “I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant and I just…”

“Who’s the father?” she said immediately and the Arch-Mage flushed.

“No one.”

Alla laughed. It couldn’t be no one and she leaned down, placing all the items into the hatch as she thought about it. “Is it Savos?”

She became huffy which would have been wildly amusing if she wasn’t also the head of the college and with eyes like ice. “It is not Savos! I did not have a sexual relationship with him! What is with everyone saying that!?”

“I-I don’t know, you were always with him?” she defended herself and Mirabelle paced more, her worry turning into frustration. 

“You’re always with Enthir! What if someone asked if you slept with him?”

She found herself smirking. “I’d sleep with him. He’s half Altmer. I always wondered if that transferred to his… um. Somewhere other than his personality,” she tried to save herself as she got another look from the Arch-Mage. “It’s just the first man to come to mind, Mirabelle!”

She growled but continued to pace for a moment until she finally stopped, letting out a noise of frustration. “This is too much. Why is this all happening now?”

Alla had to admit she felt pity for the head mage. She couldn’t imagine her reaction if she got told she was pregnant a few days before the Thalmor arrived. Actually, she could. She’d leave and just hide out in Riften. Either that or end up killing them as soon as they came near her in a fit of panic. Neither option was very smart.

She found herself speaking. “You shouldn’t worry about the Thalmor too much. If Elenwen catches wind of your stress, she’ll use that. Probably.”

Mirabelle turned to look at her over her shoulder and she gave a bit of a shrug. She calmed down a bit as her thoughts became focused on one thing and it let her have time to fill the hatch of the forge with the junk. She shut it, the thing roaring to life and she stepped back, waiting as the tusk could be heard getting churned.

Mirabelle came to her side. “You seem very well acquainted with the Ambassador.”

“I may have tried to sleep with her,” she admitted and she ignored the look she got. “What? She may be a cold-hearted bitch but she’s very attractive. It was on a drunken bet too, mind you.”

“Alla,” she sighed, tired and she smiled back but became serious again once she looked to her.

“I infiltrated the Embassy under the work of the Blades, a group I’m no longer welcome with. I killed a lot of her mages and released a few prisoners which caused her to send an assassin after me. I killed them too and on advice from a dear friend, I went to the Embassy to call her out and explain myself after every patrol started attacking me on sight.”

“And did that go over well?” she asked and she sighed in response.

“It didn’t. But I paid her for what I did but they still consider me a threat especially after the meeting we had in which I got another Mage murdered. I’m not particularly aligned with any of those factions but I may have seemed sympathetic to the Stormcloaks which she wasn’t pleased about.”

“Well I hope they don’t think we’re aligned to them,” she said automatically and she shrugged at her.

“I don’t know. I don’t think they assume that at all,” she said. “I do believe there are a stack of dossiers on Elenwen’s desk with all our details marked in it and everything about us. But you shouldn’t worry so much, Mirabelle. If it comes down to it, just give me up.”

“I can’t,” she replied. “I won’t just hand over a student for them to kill.”

“You may not think that during negotiations,” she said. “And I won’t blame you. But you can’t speculate on what Elenwen or the Thalmor will do when they get here. Like I said, she’s ruthless but she’s hard to judge. Just don’t make lewd comments about her figure.”

“I doubt I will.”

She smiled at her. “You never know. An attractive woman does have the power to make you speak out,” she joked when the hatch snapped and she looked down. It opened and she retrieved the item inside, turning it over to look at the cover. She opened the book and it exploded, her eyes shutting as magic hit her body and a new spell was sewn into her mind.

She shook her head once the ringing stopped. “Conjure Storm Atronarch. Just in case.”

Mirabelle sighed. “Any chance you can make more of those?”

She shook her head. “I don’t exactly collect ruined books. There was one I found down here that I decided to use.”

They were quiet and the Arch-Mage rubbed her temples, still stressed. Alla said nothing for a while, focusing on cleaning the forge when she stopped and looked back to Mirabelle. “Why don’t you go talk to Eirid and Assur down at the Inn if you’re unsure about children? What’s better than interacting with an actual child to know if you want one?” Mirabelle looked at her. “I know what you’re thinking. The decision is yours but you might as well get a second opinion through Eirid and Assur. You know, that sweet girl and-”

“I’m aware about Assur,” Mirabelle said darkly and Alla smiled. Of course she did. Everyone did. The kid was an absolute bastard.

“Still. After the Thalmor come, why not just go see them? They may change your mind.”

She seemed to relax a bit at her suggestion which in turn made her relax. With that, she started packing up. There was a daedra heart in her bag she meant to use at the forge but somehow she figured if she pulled it out, Mirabelle may lecture her. They weren’t exactly obtained through good means and she did leave to college to get it.

The Arch-Mage followed her out, both silent as they did as she was still thinking. When they exited the Midden, she found herself looking to the sky. “Shit, I’m late for class. Stop worrying, Mirabelle! We’ll all be fine!” she said as she rushed off leaving her alone. She made it just in time to get a lecture from Tolfdir and Enthir laughing at her when she tripped on the stairs. She got him back by conjuring a storm atronarch causing him to nearly get electrocuted and her nearly expelled.

It was worth it though. Even Enthir had to admit it.

\--

The next few days didn’t go as smoothly as Mirabelle hoped. She was still stressed over the Thalmor but she decided to put her thoughts of her pregnancy out of her mind as she was advised. Just until they were gone. She focused instead on making potions to store in case a war did escalate and making sure everything was stocked in the kitchens and the students were faring well.

The apprentices needed work and how many times they nearly killed each other worried her. She didn’t have time to correct it as exactly five days since she got the letter, the Thalmor arrived in a massive show.

She had to rush to meet them before the statue of Shalidor, Alla joining her side as well as Tolfdir and the staff backing them up from behind. Soldiers came first, dividing when they hit the grounds and all of them were dressed in expensive glass armor, swords sharp and eyes set forward almost devoid of life. It disturbed her but she tried not to focus on them as several mages came forward, stopping in-between the soldiers before the Ambassador began to cross the courtyard. Swords were raised, the soldiers stamped and moved in a ninty-degree angle all at once and they all bowed as she walked, her robes fluttering in the sharp wind.

Mirabelle stared. Alla had been right, the Ambassador was stunning. She walked forward, confident, with her hands behind her back and she stopped a good few paces away, her golden eyes looking to them all in utter judgement before the focused not on her but the girl beside her.

“Alla,” she said, her voice as beautiful as a sparrow’s song but she bore no smile. “How typical to see you here. I assume you’ve been killing my agents again?”

“Elenwen,” she said and Mirabelle felt her stomach turn as the damned mage crossed her arms defiantly next to her. “You’re looking lovely. Still sleeping alone in your bed? Oh, wait, of course you are since no mer would want to lay next to a woman who has fucked over all of Skyrim.”

Mirabelle looked to Alla in shock

“Aren’t you witty today,” Elenwen smirked. “Says the girl who can’t keep her legs closed near my men. Tell me, how many of my kin have you taken or can you count that high?”

“More mer than you’ll ever have loyal to you,” she smirked and Mirabelle moved forward, in complete shock the damned mage had even spoke let alone that she was so casually sparring words with the Ambassador to the Aldmeri Dominion.

“Lady Elenwen,” she said in a loud voice. “Welcome to the College of Winterhold. Please, excuse my student. She doesn’t know her place.”

Those gold eyes moved to her and she felt herself stiffen under them. This woman was dangerous and she could tell by a single glance of her eyes.

“You’re Mirabelle Ervine?” she said and she found herself giving an apprehensive nod. “The woman my Agent Ancano was fucking?”

She turned white and all eyes went on her making her shake. She had no words and Elenwen smiled. “By your silence, I assume I’m right. Ancarion, follow me inside. We have business to discuss with the new Arch-Mage.”

 

\-------

 

Mirabelle sat stiffly across from the Ambassador who was relaxed in her chair, sipping the tea she had been offered with ease. Beside her stood a quiet Thalmor mage, his stance stiff but his face wasn’t as rough and cold as the others showing his youth. Alla was allowed to stand near Mirabelle but she had been silenced. Her eyes were on the young mage, judging him and once in a while he would look to her and furrow his brows. She kept staring at him like a dragon waiting to be allowed to feast.

She had no idea what was with the girl but she was going to get punished severely for her comments. If it came up, Mirabelle was even tempted to toss her over. After all she told her about the Ambassador and then she goes against it infuriated her. Not to mention she was still in shock over her relationship being announced to everyone. Her stress levels were off the charts which she channelled into her foot tapping on the floor.

Elenwen set down her cup and stared at her, her legs crossing showing the robes were cut near her upper thigh not only giving her a look of being a cold beauty but one of elegant taste and refinement. Mirabelle shifted in her seat, sitting straight in her Arch-Mage robes which hung down over her body covering her stomach and every bit of skin past her neck.

“Where’s Agent Ancano’s body?” she asked right off the bat and Mirabelle felt her cheeks turn a bit red. She wished she knew how they found out about them.

“We buried him beneath the college,” she said and Elenwen nodded. She turned to the young Altmer and spoke in a hushed tone. The mage bowed and went to the door where several soldiers stood, giving one a direction and they left as he came back. She waited until he was beside her and perfectly still before speaking again.

“Who killed him?”

“Alla,” Mirabelle admitted and Elenwen seemed to smile at it.

“Of course she did,” she mused. “Just as she killed three of my patrols? Nine men in all? Three high ranking mages and six soldiers…”

Mirabelle took in a slow breath. “Yes.”

“And you’re hoping we will bargain with you so your college won’t be burned to the ground and disassembled brick by brick by my men,” she stated coldly and Mirabelle found her heart quickening at her words.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Elenwen smiled. “Proceed then. Please, inform me why I shouldn’t have my men rip out all your hearts.”

“Why? So you can eat them?” Alla said and Mirabelle turned on her before the Ambassador could, her eyes flashing in a warning. The girl silenced herself, looking at the Thalmor mage again who didn’t meet her look back and from across the table. Elenwen chuckled.

“My dear rogue dragon. Here I thought you weren’t allowed to speak again,” she purred and Mirabelle turned back on her. She inhaled a bit and prepared her nerves.

“Your Agent Ancano tried to kill us all. His actions led to the death of our previous Arch-Mage, Savos Aren. He sent an assassin to kill my student when she was sent to retrieve something-”

“Yes, the Staff of Magnus,” Elenwen said in a cool voice. “I saw it on the wall.”

“Furthermore, he nearly killed me,” she didn’t stop. “I will not deny what happened to your patrols is a crime but my students were blinded by rage in what your agent started. Your patrols would not have been killed if Ancano did not tamper with the Eye of Magnus-”

“The Eye of Magnus which you unearthed from Saarthal and took to the college which prompted my Agent to act,” she said which made her pause. She didn’t like where this was going and the Ambassador gave her an almost smug smile. “My Agent wouldn’t have acted if you did not bring that… thing back here.”

She thought about it but came right back at her. “None of us were compelled by it like he was and we have a wide array of races here. He acted deliberately to kill us and possibly the realm. His actions set off this course of events.”

“Yes he killed your Arch-Mage… when? A week before your dragon came back with the staff? And then she killed him. In that week my patrols weren’t killed. Only after Ancano was did my patrols fall to her hands as well as to… A Khajiit, Nord, and Dunmer I believe? Oh, and nice touch roping in another Altmer.”

Alla hissed, ready to spar but Mirabelle slapped her hand down stopping her. Elenwen turned, chuckling even more to the point where she covered her mouth and Mirabelle was started to get a headache.

“She came back and thought I was dead,” she said at her. “I am her and the other students mentor. They were not aware I survived until after three of your patrols went down.”

Elenwen’s eyes met her own and there was that cold, dangerous look that made her freeze. “Two people – one dead, another injured – does not excuse murdering eleven members of the Thalmor. I will excuse Ancano and Estormo but there’s still nine deaths that are on you and your college. And right now, you have nothing to offer for that.”

He eyes flicked to Alla and Mirabelle looked to the girl who was still staring at the mage.

“Give me the dragonborn.”

“No,” Mirabelle said immediately as she looked back at her. Elenwen’s lips pressed tight.

“I am giving you a bargain,” she said. “I ask for one life against nine. You will not survive if we attack.”

She kept a still face. “You do not know our ranks and we do not fall to threats. You will not have our student to torture,” she said but now she had to scramble for an option. She pulled out one card she had that Tolfdir had expressed a few nights back in privacy. “We will allow your mages to stay here. Ancano is allowed to be replaced.”

Elenwen laughed. “Do you not think we weren’t already going to do that?”

She grit her teeth. “You could have but we would not grant them immunity if you did. The Stormcloaks run this Hold and we have no control over them. If your mages disappeared we would not be responsible and you know you cannot pin that on us,” she said in a cold voice to match her own. The Ambassador stared at her.

“So now you threaten us with our mages dying.”

“I am just telling you what will happen. You have no friends in Winterhold due to the Stormcloak leadership. You may leave mages here which we will protect. Nine of them to cover your nine dead soldiers.”

She scoffed. “I am not leaving nine men here to do the job one did. I have one mage and four soldiers to protect him. They are to be left here whether you agree to it or not.”

“That leaves five of your patrol taken care of,” she cut in. “We will protect those five and whether you want to admit it or not, our protection is what they need. That leaves four left.”

“So you believe the dragonborn is worth only four lives as opposed to nine?” she cut right back and Mirabelle furrowed her brows.

“You are not getting her. This is a negotiation, not the college bending to a faction and willfully allowing them to harm students. That goes against everything we believe and the very structure of our grounds. Five Thalmor on college grounds to cover five of the patrol my students recklessly killed. The other four we talk about now,” she said and the Ambassador went silent. She smiled though it was hollow and she began to look around the room judging every piece in it.

“You claim this to be a negotiation but it really sounds like you wish the Thalmor to bend to your silly rules. We are being reasonable. An eye for an eye, as they say except you are getting a better deal as I do not request for all four of your students executed publicly for what they’ve done. I merely am asking for one who deserves punishment,” she looked to the Imperial with a cold look and Alla shifted beside her.

“So, Mirabelle Ervine, you have a choice. I will let five of my dead be redeemed by having five soldiers stay here and this time, they will be allowed full access to everything the college asks without your blocking. Don’t think Ancano never mentioned that in his reports. And you hand over the dragonborn for the other four,” she began. “Or I kill all four of your apprentices, imprison your five professors and the Thalmor run the college and we deal with the Stormcloaks which… aren’t that much of a threat to begin with.”

Mirabelle stared at her wanting to shout a resounding ‘no’ but the threat of killing four apprentices and her staff frightened her more than she realized. She thought quickly; there had to be something to offer for four of the soldiers as she refused to agree to such terms when Alla spoke out of line.

“If you take me you do know I will kill more than a patrol this time. All your men will fall with you as soon as we get out of Winterhold.”

Elenwen’s eyes moved to her. “The last time I checked, you bleed like a mortal dragonborn not like your scaly brothers. I brought thirty men with me. You think you can take them all along with me?”

“You Thalmor are weak. Those patrols were easier to cut through than a sweet roll. I’m sure I could give you all a quick death before you even know what is happening.”

“Alla, be quiet!” Mirabelle snapped as she kept trying to think. This damned girl, she had half a mind to send her out but with how she was acting she worried more would be added to the body count. Elenwen looked back at her, waiting.

“What is your choice, Arch-Mage? Give me your mouthy student or have your college disintegrate on account of her?”

She pursed her lips tight. “You have to do better than issue your agents here and then ask for a sacrifice.”

“That’s the best you’re going to get,” the Ambassador said when the Thalmor mage next to her shifted then leaned down. He said something quietly which made her face slowly fall and she turned to stare at him. He merely leaned over more, whispering quickly and he leaned up returning to his position of standing silent. The Ambassador didn’t look to any of them as she mulled over whatever had been said to her.

Mirabelle waited, glancing over at Alla but she was stiff and silent for once. She sighed internally and went to watching the Ambassador who was taking her time. She reached up, clicking her nails together and the Thalmor mage leaned down as she said something to him. He whispered in her ear and Mirabelle found herself growing impatient, her stress affecting her nerves.

“Are we going to discuss the rest of this meeting in hushed tones?” she asked and Elenwen looked to her with hard eyes, how the gold in them could make her feel so cold she didn’t know but it made her stiffen. The Ambassador pursed her lips.

“Trust me, this discussion is to your benefit, not mine,” she said annoyed and Mirabelle stared. She finally relented. “I won’t take your precious little dragon but in exchange I want the Staff of Magnus,” she said simply. “And I get to speak to the dragonborn for as long as I want. Alone.”

Mirabelle stared and she looked to the Thalmor Mage who didn’t look at any of them. She found her eyes moving to the Staff and a sudden sense of dread filling her. Before she could properly think it over, her voice spoke, shaking as it did.

“Deal.”

The Ambassador got up shocking her and she immediately went to grab the dragonborn, the girl hissing at her but she had no choice. She got up, a bit frazzled and she found herself following them a bit as Elenwen led the Imperial towards the door leading to the roof. “You said speak! Do not hurt her!”

She didn’t reply and the large doors behind them slammed making her flinch. She turned on the Thalmor mage who still remained standing, his eyes however on the staff. “What did you say to her?”

He looked down, his eyes unlike Ancano’s or Elenwen’s. They were gold but with his features so young he didn’t look intimidating or cold. He looked more curious which put her off a bit more as she didn’t know if that was better. He cleared his throat a bit.

“I merely reminded our Lady of other priorities,” he said in a typical cryptic Thalmor tone. “The Staff is a better switch in the long run than revenge on a girl.”

She frowned but said nothing. She looked worried to the door but the mage stepped forward causing her attention to go back to him. “I am Ancarion, Arch-Mage. I will be the Agent deployed to the college with my soldiers. I assume since you said yes that you know I am to have your full cooperation.”

She stared at him and she found herself having to ask. “How old are you?”

He blinked, a small flush covering his cheeks but he recovered fast. “Not as young as you assume.”

She sighed and took one last look to the door leading up to the roof before relenting. “Apologies. You will have my full cooperation but there are some ground rules that need to be put in place,” she said and he continued staring at her but was silent. “You are not to interfere with my student’s experiments, nor the staff’s or their lectures. We will give you rooms but in no way are we going to feed, clothe, or treat you as if you are Noblemen and we your servants.”

“Fine,” he said. “But I am allowed all access to every part of the college and if I have questions they are expected to be answered, not dodged as Ancano was treated.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

He seemed to relax a bit. “One last thing.”

“What?”

He seemed to flush a bit. “Where is the library?”

She pointed to the door that led to it and he seemed to note it but remained in place. She found herself awkwardly waiting too, not wanting to stray far as her student was above them with one of the most powerful women in Tamriel. It worried her more than she realized and she couldn’t believe she just easily agreed to such a thing. Perhaps she wouldn’t punish her as severely as being alone with the Ambassador was bad enough.

\--

She was slammed against the door, Elenwen’s nails digging into her neck and she hissed.

“You’re lucky my Agent got you off the hook, otherwise I would be tearing your eyes out.”

She let out a sarcastic laugh. “Skipping the foreplay, Elenwen? I knew you wanted me just didn’t know it was that bad.”

She was slapped but she could have seen that coming. Elenwen was furious and she was right back at her. She had no idea why the woman set off something within her. She reached up and dug her nails into her wrist, trying to breathe a bit. She didn’t let her.

“I suppose you think you’ve won. You get off killing my patrols and I in turn lose an Agent and four soldiers to this… frozen dump and get some petty staff,” she snapped. “Tell me why I shouldn’t throw you off this roof.”

“I’d survive and you know it,” she snapped and the Ambassador gave her a cruel smile.

“Not without damaging some things.”

“Like your pride?” she smirked and she was slammed against the door again, her vision shaking. She really hated how the Thalmor really loved doing that to her. She was choked again almost to the point of her passing out and finally Elenwen let go, her body collapsing on the ground as she paced trying to compose herself.

“I’m getting tired of our meet-ups, dragon,” she said as her robes were whipped in the wind. Alla looked up, checking out her legs before she coughed and stood rubbing her throat. “You destroy my Embassy, kill my torturer, kill my patrols, and get one of my best Agents murdered-”

“Ondolemar wasn’t my fault!” she shouted at her. “How was I to know that as soon as they got word in Markarth, he would be executed? I didn’t want that and you know it!”

“Regardless, dragon! You then kill Estormo, kill Ancano, and three more of my patrols! Not to mention your little thing at Northwatch in which you released a prisoner-”

“-Who was unfairly imprisoned!”

“And now you’re diverting my men away from their tasks! If you think you can continue on your path of destruction I am here to remind you it will come to an end and you won’t be able to squirm out of it forever.”

She said nothing for a moment. “Looks like I did this time.”

She turned and advanced on her again, her blonde hair blowing over her face as the wind picked up, the hem of her robes lifting off the ground giving her the look of a wispmother and she was just as angry as one. She was on her before she could act. “Every soldier, every mage, every wizard, ally and animal I can rouse up I will send after you. The minute you step foot off this blasted college, I will kill you.”

She gave her a look. “What do you want, Elenwen?”

The Ambassador stared down at her in annoyance. “I want the mask of the dragon priest you got in Labyrinthian. And the one from Forelhost.”

“You mean the one I got for your undercover Agent?” she said and her eyes flashed.

“And you are to go to a wretched little island called Solstheim. There is a boat from Windhelm that goes there. You will fetch a mineral called Stalhrim and bring that back. As much as you can,” she continued.

“All so you won’t kill me? Seems like a pretty poor bargain considering I have the power to call upon a dragon and can shout you to death,” she pointed out and Elenwen scoffed.

“Please. Don’t try and act like you’re that child, Ulfric. You have a poor aim and you run to go hide when you’re losing health and magic so you can drink down potions. Against my men, you would be dead,” she cut in and she had to silence herself over it. She really had no witty retort to that.

They stared at each other in a deadlock, the Ambassador’s presence heavy against her but she wouldn’t back down. She pressed her tongue against her cheek, hating this deal. She didn’t want to go to wherever the hell she mentioned and she found herself forming a deal despite feeling she shouldn’t.

“No Stalhrim. But I’ll bring you all the Dragon Priest masks. Not like I use them.”

Elenwen said nothing but her shoulders did stop tensing so much. Alla gave her a haughty smile. “Bring them all to me. The Wooden Mask included and whatever that damned thing is supposed to unlock.”

She stared at her. “Unlock what?”

“Figure it out and I won’t kill you,” she snapped and she sighed in response. How typical of the Thalmor; they had no clue so they were going to force her to figure it out.

“Is that all, your Majesty?”

“Don’t get smart,” Elenwen shot back but she had eased into her typical position, her arms crossed over her chest and her posture not as stiff but still condescending. “You are also not to interfere with my Agent this time.”

“What, that boy you had next to you?” she laughed. “Sorry, Elenwen. I don’t rob the cradle.”

She actually smiled at her remark. “Just keep your legs closed, if you can. I don’t fancy hearing another report about you fucking one of my Mers. Your or your Arch-Mage.”

That made her stop. She had almost forgot about that and she found herself flushing a bit. She honestly never would have anticipated Mirabelle getting involved with Ancano considering how many times they were heard screaming at each other in the Hall of Elements or in the courtyard. Then again, she had gotten into fights with Ondolemar that ended with them on his bed. It had to be their nature just like she was very close sometimes to pinning down the Ambassador and doing something inappropriate.

She seemed to pick up on her thoughts and she was pressed again to the bronze door, Elenwen’s golden eyes moving down her body which made her hiss at her in anger. “Are we done up here, Ambassador? Or do you want me to show you why your men fall so easily to me.”

She smiled at her that cold smile she always sported around her allies, one that made General Tullius bristle and Ulfric Stormcloak have a fit. “I expect those masks by the end of the month. If I don’t get them then you better hope your aim is good.”

“Try it,” she growled and she was shoved to the side as the door was opened so the Ambassador could leave, her robes sweeping behind her and she couldn’t help but check out her backside. “Nice ass, Elenwen.”

There was no response back and she was left stewing on the roof, her emotions switching between utter laughter at what happened and extreme frustration. She shot off some fireballs and even took to shouting for Clear Skies which caused the soldiers below to panic a bit as they expected a dragon to come swooping down. It was mildly amusing for a minute until she saw Elenwen come out from the Hall of Elements, walking fast down the line of her soldiers with the Staff of Magnus to leave the college.

She finally relented and went back down only to find the Arch-Mage’s quarters empty. A quick check into the Hall found her down there along with the professors. All the students – the apprentices and Enthir, were to the side listening as Mirabelle stood rubbing her temples. Tolfdir seemed extremely displeased while Faralda stood near the Arch-Mage as if to signal she was on her side.

When she entered all eyes went on her. Mirabelle crossed the room and promptly slapped her. She let her without a protest – she did sort of deserve it.

“I told you to be quiet in the meeting!” she nearly exploded and Alla sighed. “What on earth were you thinking, provoking the Ambassador like that!?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “She just… brings out the worst in me.”

“That’s not an excuse, Alla! You purposely almost antagonized her into a war!” she snapped as she went back towards the professors, pacing in irritation. “What did that woman want with you?”

She licked her lips realizing how parched they were. “I need to bring her something.”

“What?” she asked and she sighed.

“It’s nothing,” she found herself saying. She was tired from dealing with Elenwen for so long and the masks really weren’t a college concern. “It’s just a safeguard against them further coming against us.”

She could tell Mirabelle wasn’t pleased with her not telling but she seemed stressed out enough and she tell what everyone’s concerns were as they watched her. She figured she might as well ask.

“Mirabelle, you really slept with Ancano?”

The Arch-Mage went stiff, her eyes flashing and she found herself biting her lip. For a little woman she was just as scary as Elenwen – maybe even more. But the question was put out there and all eyes went to her. She in turn dug her nails into her arms and stared at the floor stewing on it. Alla found herself regretting saying it. She didn’t mean to put her into their judgement like that despite it being what everyone wanted to know. Also, she recalled, she was pregnant. She kept her mouth shut on who the suspected father was now.

She finally spoke. “My personal life is still personal. Who I have been with is none of your concerns and does not affect the college in any way. Are we all clear on this?”

It was Phinis who spoke up. “But Mirabelle, if you were with that insufferable bastard then did you know he was going-”

“Are you insane?” she snapped. “Of course I wasn’t! Do you think I wanted to see Savos die? For me to… to nearly die? For all of this bullshit to happen?!” She turned on them all and no one said anything.

There was an uncomfortable silence that surrounded them and Alla found herself watching Colette who was staring at the Arch-Mage’s stomach. She didn’t need a degree to know she knew as well.

After a moment Mirabelle sighed, weary. She was drained just as she was from everything and with the Ambassador and most of her party gone it was the first time she had to take in how they narrowly avoided a war.

“Excuse me?” a voice came and they all turned as the Thalmor Agent came in. He was holding some books and looking curiously at them which they all responded with cold looks back. He sighed a bit. “Arch-Mage, where are my soldiers quarters? They need to start their new shifts.”

Mirabelle sighed and she moved past them all to greet him. “Ancarion… Before I take you I suppose I shall introduce you. Everyone should know who our new Thalmor in Residence is.”

He said nothing but his hands gripped the books he had tighter. He stepped into the hall but not very far and gave them all a bow. No one met him back and he pressed his lips together thin and turned to Mirabelle. She sighed.

“This is Ancarion. You’re to give him your full cooperation as he stays here for the Embassy. And I mean full cooperation,” she said and a few of the students looked to each other but said nothing. Alla found herself smiling. Good luck on getting any of them to be courteous to another Thalmor. Mirabelle didn’t seem pleased by the frosty atmosphere but she turned to escort him out. He followed without a word.

Once they were gone all eyes went on her. “So… you nearly antagonized the Ambassador to killing us all?” Enthir said and she let out an annoyed sigh and turned to him.

“Like she didn’t need to be reminded she doesn’t tell us what to do.”

“This is why Alla could not be Arch-Mage,” J’zargo said and she turned on him. “Bad negotiation skills. J’zargo would have made all Thalmor leave.”

“I highly doubt that,” Drevis commented from across the hall making her smirk. “Kids, look. Do as Mirabelle says. I sort of don’t want to lose my life so don’t go on a justice brigade no matter how much the Thalmor deserve it.”

“Alla,” Onmund said almost accusingly and she turned on the Nord making him shrink back.

“Excuse me? I wanted to go off alone! You demanded on following me! This would have gone differently if you didn’t go.”

He stared at her. “T-This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t go out and kill them!”

“I’ve been slaughtering those patrols long before I came to the college!” she spat and before she could continue, Tolfdir spoke.

“Alright, that’s enough! All of you! What’s done is done and there will be no more deaths caused intentionally by student hands! Now all of you have work to do, if I recall? I expect you to all have wards mastered by tomorrow! So go off and do as students do, not stand here bickering!” he commanded and they turned to him. He was shockingly good at lecturing them despite the fact that he forgot where he put his shoes sometimes.

They began to exit but before she could go, Faralda pulled her aside. “Your mage came looking for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Nelacar?”

She pursed her lips. “Look, I don’t know whether we can go out or not still but he did pay me to allow you to escape for tonight. I will be away from the gate at midnight and if you tell anyone I will deny it.” She found herself smiling brightly at the sorceress which made her roll her eyes. “Go! Do your homework!”

She left with a smile on her face. At least one positive thing was going to happen to her that day.

\--

She ended up giving her old room to Ancarion. The Thalmor mage looked around the room while she watched, his books being placed on the dresser and he turned to her.

“There’s… no privacy?” he asked and she found herself frowning before she realized what he meant. All the doors to the rooms were open and despite it being awkward at times, that was the way it was. She decided to point it out to him a different way.

“We don’t encourage secrets here,” she said. “Not since a previous professor killed a student.”

“I see,” he said quietly. “Thank you. But I need to ask something.”

“Yes?” she said as prepared for what on earth he had to inquire about.

“That Orc that runs the library,” he pressed his hands together. “He told me he would rip my head off if I ruin any of his books. Was he… serious?”

She found herself sighing. “Urag is very protective of his books. He tells that to everyone. All of our lives are lesser than the books he watches over.”

“I see,” he commented. “And behind him in that glass case. Was that an Elder Scroll?”

She found herself becoming wary at his words but he didn’t pick up on it. “Yes… our student Alla gave it to us after she was done with it.”

“The dragonborn?”

“Yes,” she was starting to tire of his questions. He merely nodded and turned to look down at the bed given to him. “Thank you, Arch-Mage. I shall see you in the morning.”

She nodded and left slowly, her worry transferring now to the library. She went to find Tolfdir, meeting him in the courtyard and she brought him to her quarters to speak of it, staring at the cup Elenwen had used in brief annoyance. “Ancarion was asking about the Elder Scroll.”

Tolfdir frowned. “Already? That is worrisome.”

“I know Urag already stays in the library around the clock but can we safeguard the scroll somehow? Put a spell on it?” she asked and the old wizard had to think, sitting down as he did.

“I would have to ask Serguis if he knows any type of odd enchantments to give to things like boxes.”

“Can you?” she asked and he nodded making her relax for the first time all day. He stared at her for a while and she looked to him. “What?”

“Mirabelle, Colette informed me you were pregnant,” he said quietly and she tensed. Damn that woman! This was why the other professors didn’t talk to her! “I need to ask…”

“It’s Ancano’s,” she said bluntly. He went quiet and she found herself crossing her arms and sighing, her weariness making her bones ache. “It was a purely sexual relationship, Tolfdir. And I can assure you, I never meant to get pregnant or want to.”

He nodded, still silent. It was starting to irritate her. “Tolfdir?”

He seemed to snap out of his thoughts finally and he looked to her. “No, no, I’m not judging you, Mirabelle. Of course not. I just worry about the Thalmor if they found out.”

“What would that matter?” she asked and he frowned.

“I don’t know what they would do if they heard the Arch-Mage was pregnant with a dead Agent’s child,” he said and she pursed her lips. Yes, that was a thought that had crossed her mind before. She didn’t like it though. “We should possibly try and keep this as quiet as possible.”

“You think?” she asked, annoyed. “Tell that to Colette! It’s bad enough that she knows. I don’t want this getting out at all!”

“I’ll talk to her,” he reassured her. “But Mirabelle, I have to know. What are you going to do?”

She bit her lip.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I really don’t know.”


	29. Original Sin (F!OC/Uraccen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Request: I love all those stories where one person in a couple is virgin and ends up tentatively doing a good job in bed. However, I would like to read a fill where the couple's first time sex is actually...kind of...eh. So the sexy lessons begin!
> 
>  
> 
> Unfinished, but yeah.

She pressed her right fingers hard against her palm, inhaling quickly before exhaling slowly as she looked over the river to Druadach Redoubt, the morning light casting a warm orange glow over the path and entrance. Outside she could see two of the forsworn mingling, their tattered armor making them almost blend into the rocks until they moved and she continued to hesitate as she watched them. She didn’t recognize them which was never a good sign.

Druadach was always welcome to her. Madanach - the King in Rags as she still saw him - extended his hand to her that she could freely come to the redoubt whenever she felt like it but there were still forsworn among the ranks that didn’t like her appearing so frequently there. Really, she shouldn’t care as she only ever went to the place to see one man but a part of her was hurt over it. She saved their leader. Shouldn’t she get treated better for it? She wasn’t a Breton but that shouldn’t matter. Right?

But that was beside the point at the moment. The point was, she was there for one reason. She wanted to see the one man that made her entire body feel like it was on fire and today was the day she wanted to finally ask him to go further. Today… she wanted him. Fully. The thought alone made her fidget and she had to breathe in and out a few times to calm down. By the Eight this was making her nervous. She shouldn’t be, really she shouldn’t! But she was young and inexperienced in relationships and acting like a lovesick pup when she thought of him and she wanted to just go into the redoubt to damn well find him and tell him but at the moment she was stuck. 

Not from anything physical, this was all mental. She couldn’t move her legs because she was nervous. And she was scared. But most of all, she wasn’t even sure he would want to do this with her. After all, didn’t men hate virgins because they were supposedly so clingy? Wasn’t that the rule of them? Or at least what she hear in Inns. Was she clingy? Ugh, she hated this.

She was still mulling over it when a man came up behind her and when he laid his hand on her shoulder she shrieked and turned around too fast, almost falling over. He grabbed her before she could and she flushed deeply at him, her eyes going to the dead goat hanging off his shoulder before she actually registered who it was.

“B-Braig!” she said, swatting at him and the old forsworn smiled at her, letting her go to put his hand on her head to ruffle her hair as he had a tendency to do. She playfully pushed him knowing he wouldn’t mind. Sometimes when she saw him he still called her by his daughter’s name but it was getting less frequent as the days went on. Still, she continued to treat him like a second father. He didn’t seem to mind and at least him smiling put her at ease.

“Little field mouse,” he said making her give him a sulking look at the nickname. “What are you doing over here? Are you spying on our home?”

She tried to push him despite being unable to and he chuckled at her feeble attempt. “No,” she said. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

Braig smirked at her. “Thinking?”

“Yes.”

“About what, little mouse?”

“N-None of your business!” she said immediately and he paused.

“Ah,” he said and he looked to the redoubt where the two forsworn who had been casually talking before were now watching across the river to the pair. “You want to see Uraccen.”

She flushed deeply and he raised his brows. “Am I correct?”

She folded her arms. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of guessing the correct reason why she was there or leave it open for him to prod more and he chuckled at her silence. He readjusted his goat, looking back towards the rising sunlight and he motioned at her making her arms relax a bit.

“Come little field mouse. We will find him.”

He began walking again, the dead goat on his shoulder swaying a bit and she flushed deeply before she followed suit, staying on his heels as he went. He turned west, easily hopping on the rocks while she stumbled and staggered a bit in her armor, her movements still not as graceful despite the changes she had made. Earlier that week she had replaced some of her old Orcish pieces with newer ones that Ghorza had expertly crafted for her. They were light, smoother, and the leather lining the inside was soft and new but despite that she still couldn’t carry the weight very well.

When they came to the upstream crossing where most folk jumped the river she hesitated and Braig stopped, looking behind him.

“Can you make it?” he pointed and she frowned. It looked deep. Like it could pull her under in a second and she bit her lip. “Wait here, little field mouse.”

“D-Don’t call me that,” she sulked but he didn’t hear her as he jumped into the river, the current pressing hard against his legs but he easily walked on. Once he was on the other side he dropped his goat on a rock, tying his garments tight before he waded back towards her and she hesitated. He turned around, still in the river and made a motion.

“On my back.”

She stared. “B-But-”

“I can carry you,” he said. “Come now, little one. This water is not exactly warm.”

She sighed and began crawling down the rocks towards him, slipping a few times but she caught herself and awkwardly she got on his back. He hauled her up a bit, holding her steady as he started cutting through the current and she felt the force of it on her legs. It only took less than a minute to cross but her weight wasn’t really light and his age wasn’t exactly young. When they hit the other side and she got off he took a minute to breathe, holding his back.

“You should have just let me try and cross!” she said, watching him in slight distress and he sighed.

“Uraccen would kill me if he heard you got swept away,” he said. “Do you not remember the last time?”

She flushed deeply. She tried not to remember the last time she crossed a river in the Reach. Thank the divines Braig and Uraccen had saved her otherwise she would have drowned. But her embarrassment was less on her nearly drowning and more on when they stripped her after. They didn’t care but she still was mortified of both of them seeing her bare chest and bottom. The thought alone made her readjust.

“I’m fine, little mouse,” he said as he straightened and grabbed his goat, either not noticing or ignoring her discomfort. “Come. Let’s go find your dearly beloved.”

She waited until he was walking properly before she came beside him and shoved him making him smile. She hated when they referred to Uraccen as that to her. It was always said as a joke. “Y-You all get too much pleasure out of making fun of me you know.”

“Because you are so easy to rile up, little field mouse,” he said as he continued to walk. She pushed him again and he let out a soft laugh. “Come. The sky is rising and the clan will all be up soon.”

She nodded and fell back in line behind him, trying hard not to stumble as they walked to the redoubt.

When they got in view, the two she had been watching before looked behind Braig at her, one tapping the end of his crude sword in irritation until Braig stopped and turned at them. He said something in a hard tone making the two back down a bit before he continued and she followed after, making sure she did not look at either forsworn member as she passed. While she was utterly thankful Braig had found her to make it less awkward to come, she could feel the hot anger from the eyes behind her making her sigh. The next time would be worse now and she wished she had come alone. Although, she could just go tell Madanach or Uraccen two of their members needed a talking to…

However, it wasn’t her place. She was a guest, not welcome to stay and the two who were outside were the ones who lived in this home. It would be wrong for her to condemn them when she only came infrequently there but a part of her still wanted to complain. After all, why should she be treated as slop when she saved their king?

As Braig and her went into the cave she kept closer to him, the sun’s warmth disappearing fast behind her. She could smell a fire going from the entrance and the sounds of people milling were echoing off the walls but other than that it was quiet. No warriors were on the move and no creepy hagravens were screeching like banshees indicating they had all gone. Braig stepped down first onto the planks that made up a shaky walkway that led to the heart it all, his pace slowing a bit making her as well and when they got to the gardens he stopped.

“Wait here,” he told her and she nodded, awkwardly standing in place as he left her and went towards the spiraling rocky path that led to the center of the redoubt where the senior members stayed. Uraccen’s place was there along with Braig and Kaie and the king himself, Madanach. She hoped he was there but she couldn’t be sure. He was an early riser while everyone else got up late. She could see forsworn members moving up top, her eyes scanning them for if she could see who she wanted but under the dark light she couldn’t tell who anyone was. She wondered if Odvan was among them.

The thought made her think to the others she freed and she backed up as she realized that if she could see the top, they could see her and Borkul or Druach could be up there. She really, really wasn’t in the mood to deal with them. She was told to never raise her sword against any member or she would be cast out but the same didn’t apply to her. Any forsworn could strike her if they lied and said she had raised a sword and she was still afraid one day Borkul would come at her with a shiv.

She was still mulling on the thought when Braig came back down to her, his goat now gone and he nodded towards the entrance.

“Uraccen is outside.”

She frowned. “Where?”

“Come,” he said and she followed, trudging up the slope of the cave, sticking close. They left and she avoided the two forsworn’s eyes again, their stances annoyed at seeing the pair once more but they didn’t say anything and Braig led her back down the path that wound over the rocks. When they got to the bottom he started going east and she followed him, the sun now rising higher revealing how much dew was coating the ground on the grassy hills around them. They made a trail in grass, her boots soon becoming soaked and when he started to climb she fell behind. By the time he reached a small plateau above the valley she was panting hard and he smiled.

“Your armor is too heavy,” he said and she gave him a look, sticking her tongue out.

“It’s fine.”

“Sure, little field mouse,” he said. “Although now I think we should call you bulky elephant.”

“I’ll kill you.”

He chuckled. He moved once she caught her breath, helping her up some of the rocks as they started crawling up a goat path that was neither sane nor safe to walk on. Several times she swore she was going to fall to her death, Braig reassuring her as she inched over a thin rocky ledge but in the end it was worth it. Well, for her. They came to a single tree hanging over the rocks high above the redoubt and underneath it a man in forsworn gear sat praying, a bottle of alcohol beside him and a tiny bowl at his feet.

“Uraccen,” Braig said and slowly the man ceased his quiet praying, his eyes opening but he did not turn. “Kallisto’s here.”

He looked immediately at him before he stood and Braig hopped down onto the rock revealing her. She remained behind, flushing deeply when she saw him and when he smiled she gave him one back. Braig’s hand came out, offering it to her and she took it as she eased down onto the outcrop where they both stood. He turned to Braig.

“Thank you,” he said before he walked towards her and she tried not to giggle in happiness that she found him. Now she was thankful Braig had come by her and took her along because she would have never have found him otherwise. He looked her over once. “You came all the way up here in that armor?”

“It’s new,” she said in a sheepish voice. “See? My gauntlets aren’t even scratched. And they’re lighter.” She held up her arms for him to see. “They feel like nothing.”

Braig rolled his eyes from behind Uraccen making her look to him in a fake pout and he shook his head. “I’ll leave you two,” he said, moving before he paused by Uraccen. He opened his mouth, strange words coming out and she stood awkwardly before them as Uraccen’s amusement faded a bit and he began to frown.

“Alright,” he respond. “Old gods keep you, Braig.”

“Mmhmm,” he said before he hopped back on the rock and began navigating down the path they had come. She waited until she couldn’t hear anything anymore before she turned back on him.

“What did he say?” she asked and he looked to her, his smile coming back and he reached down to touch her cheek making her flush.

“Nevermind, my little field mouse,” he said and her heart thumped at his words. She only liked it when he called her that. No one else. Hence why they did it because it did bother her. “Come, take off your helmet and sit and enjoy the morning. I was just finishing up.”

“R-Right,” she said as she began to loosen her gear. “Sorry for interrupting. I mean, I would have come sooner but…” she deliberately paused.

“But?” he asked as he turned back to sit where he had been and once she loosened all the leather straps on her body she joined him. She pulled her helmet off slowly but her brown hair still stuck up in every which way making her fuss to smooth it back down and she almost forgot what she was saying until she looked down at the valley before them. You could just barely see the path that led along the river.

“But… the two forsworn at the entrance. I didn’t know them,” she said as she rubbed her legs. “I know you said I could come any time but not every forsworn is really tolerant of me. I am an Imperial.”

“That doesn’t matter, trust me,” he said. “You freed us, Kallisto. We are in your debt.”

“Yeah, but that debt doesn’t exactly last long,” she sighed. “You know I’m not welcome here.”

He looked to her, his face turning serious like it did when he was going to lecture her. “Kallisto…”

“Come on, Uraccen,” she sighed, getting frustrated. “You know it’s true. I mean, I still feel like Borkul is going to hit me if he ever gets the chance. And the new forsworn who keep coming in are hardly going to always listen to who Madanach says is an ally.”

“And I told you if you ever had any problems, you come to me.”

“That only makes more problems,” she complained. “Then I’m a snitch. Or sensitive. And when you’re not around then I’m really in trouble because I’ll get treated worse because ‘you’re not around to protect me’ and all that.” She looked to him and he was watching her carefully. “Do you see the problem with that?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment before he sighed and began to smile. It made her turn pink in embarrassment. “T-This isn’t funny!”

“No, it’s not,” he said with a grin playing on his lips. “But I do think you are making a mountain out of an anthill.”

“What?!”

“Kallisto,” he said with a smile. “Trust me, you worry too much.”

“How is that a bad thing,” she burned before she crossed her arms and looked away from him. “I’m sorry I can’t be so empty-headed as some people and live thinking I can just waltz into a place that is still rather hostile to me and not get beaten for it.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I suppose that is the Imperial in you. Your kind has always been known to overthink, trust me.”

She turned back on him, giving him an irritated look and he laughed. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re such a prick, Uraccen,” she shot back. “I don’t know why I’m in love with you.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “You know why you are. I’m not going to remind you again and again. You’re not a little teenager, you are an adult who knows the answer.”

She sulked. She hated when he wouldn’t just let her be a brat and reassure her. It always reminded her of how she was being childish and she hated that. “Yeah. Obviously I am a glutton for punishment,” she muttered.

He cocked a brow at her. “Glutton for punishment? Do you want me to punish you then?”

She turned a bright shade of red and looked away from him. “N-No!”

He laughed again and she brushed her hair back behind her ear several times, pretending to ignore him. Only when she felt his presence get closer did she turn and his lips grazed her ear making her stop and she fidgeted slightly. “Let me finish my praying, my little fawn,” he said. “Then I’m yours.”

“A-Alright,” she breathed and he nuzzled her neck making her squirm before he pulled away. Slowly he took the bottle of alcohol, pouring the cloudy liquid into the bowl and he once again closed his eyes, remaining still as he began to pray. She sat back, her cheeks still warm and her heart racing but as he slowly dipped into a religious stupor she began to look away, watching the sun.

There was minimal clouds in the sky that was starting to turn a bright blue, the sun’s heat beating down hard but the slight breeze that drifted down over the mountains combated it and she closed her eyes to enjoy the morning. She first thought about the sun, how she cherished it since she had gotten out of that godsforsaken mine. Then her thoughts went to Uraccen, his calm demeanor as of late making her peek at him from the corner of her eye and she looked at his body, the scars from prison still winding on his back, visible to all. Madanach had told her Uraccen used to be a damn demon but his breaking in the mine did put him more submissive than he actually was.

But make no mistake, he was ranked highly in Madanach’s eye for a reason but she hadn’t seen anything of the like. He was gentle to her and still the only one from the forsworn prisoners who openly protected her but if that was out of love for her or duty she didn’t know. She liked to think it was out of love but that was just her girlish part taking hold. He was apparently a killer and a forsworn high ranked member for a reason but to her, he was as gentle as puppy. Well, okay, he did take part in the brutal the slaying of the Markarth guards but aside from that… I mean, even she took part in that. She still relished the fact that she killed that damn guard who threw her down to the wolves in the mine. Although, she really shouldn’t. She should be praying for his soul like a proper being should.

That made her thoughts turn to those of the divines. She questioned to herself whether she should pray as well. After all, save for the Temple of Dibella in Markarth she hardly ever did it anymore. Perhaps when she went to Solitude she should go to the Temple of the Eight Divines. But her coin purse wasn’t exactly heavy for the trip due to the lack of work she got and she sighed to herself at the thought. Maybe she should just give what she had to Mara and Dibella. After all, Dibella and Mara were always her favourite of the pantheon.

The constant thoughts of the two divine goddesses soon made her thoughts turn to why exactly she was there and she flushed. Maybe she will pray to Dibella. After all, she needed her the most today.

Uraccen suddenly stood from beside her and he began to chant in the weird language the forsworn spoke. His voice ebbed and flowed, his chanting turning into an odd type of singing before he picked up the bottle and bowl, raising it to the sky and he splashed part of it to the south. He then filled it again, splashing to the north and she got up, not wanting to get hit as he turned to the west and then to the east. Once he was done, he poured the remaining contents into the tiny bowl and drank deeply from it.

She watched him, curious, and when he was done he finally opened his eyes, inhaling for a second before he exhaled. He rubbed his face and began to clean up.

“Uraccen?”

“Hm?”

“What were you doing?” she asked and he paused. “What was in that bottle?”

He looked at his bowl for a second before he smiled. “It’s just a ritual to Hircine,” he said. “Giving praise to him for the bounty we recieved. Ludach made some pure alcohol using the potatoes we-” he paused for a second and she frowned. Potatoes they what? He cleared his throat and she frowned. Maybe she didn’t want to know. “Anyways, it’s what you use to give praise and thanks to Hircine. Usually there is a sacrifice involved but he seems to respond even without it.”

“What kind of sacrifice?” she asked and he shrugged though she knew he just wasn’t saying. Part of her didn’t want to know that either.

“Just a sacrifice,” he said as he went to her side. “Shall we go down?”

And that was when she began to hesitate. Go back down to the redoubt? There was a reason she came to see him today and this was highly private. Up here was as private as they were going to get in a forsworn setting and the thought of going and her dealing with his clan again wasn’t exactly appealing. 

“Uraccen,” she said as her eyes went over the ledge and down towards the valley beneath them. There were already some forsworn coming out to go to the river to collect water. “I actually came here today to see you. Alone.”

He began to frown. “Did something happen?”

“What? No, no,” she said, waving him off. “No, I just…” she exhaled. Oh, her stomach was getting tight and her heart was pounding again. She should have prayed to Dibella. “I wanted to find you to ask you a favor.”

“What do you need?”

She flushed and avoided looking at him. “Well… It’s… We’ve been together a few times. And I-I… I really, really liked it.” She pressed her fingers against her palm again. Oh boy, she was starting to shake and stutter. “I really, really liked it.”

“Which is good,” he said cautiously and she flushed. “But…?”

“B-But…” she fidgeted more, finally tucking her hands under her arms to keep from doing so but she still couldn’t meet his eyes and her foot began to tap. Adrenaline was coursing through her and she bit her lip. Just tell him! “Today… Today’s the day.”

“The day?”

She exhaled slowly before she took in a breath and just decided to blurt it out. After all, if you say it at once then it won’t sting as bad, right? “I-I want you to take my virginity!”

She turned around immediately after she said it, covering her face. By the Eight, she said it! Oh gods, how embarrassing! When he didn’t touch her immediately or say anything she began to panic. He probably thought she was a pervert saying such a thing! By the gods, she needed to backtrack. “Y-You don’t have to!” she spat out. “I-I mean, it’s just a suggestion! I mean… I just… It’s…”

His hands touched her shoulders and she went absolutely stiff. He leaned down, his breath against her ear and she quivered like a stupid lovesick teenager. “Kallisto, are you sure?”

She shook. “N-No?” she said by accident, first mishearing him. “I mean, yes! Yes!”

His lips brushed her ear and she whimpered. She was completely on edge and she moved back, her boot hitting the empty bottle he had obviously put down and she staggered but he held her. His arms snaked in front, coming around her midriff and she squirmed when he slipped a hand under her loosened armor, moving to touch her stomach to rub. She leaned into it. Oh, how his hands were so big.

She was about to fall over when he pulled back. “I’m going to only ask this once more,” he said and she frowned, not liking the loss of his touch. “Are you sure? I’ve got twenty years over you,” he said and she bit her lip. “Do you really want an old Breton of the Reach to be your first?”

Well, when he put it like that… She rolled her eyes. Men. She decided to just be honest. After all, no one could hear them.

“I love you,” she said, her breath shaking at her words as she stared at the rocks around them so she didn’t lose her never. “I don’t want anyone else to have me. I only want you. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“You’re young,” he said which was absolutely the wrong thing to say. She turned on him, grabbing his tattered armor to glare at him and he paused in shock. Young? Really? He was going there? How dare he!

“Uraccen!” she snapped and he held up his hands in defense. “I know what I feel!”

“I am just making sure,” he said. “Trust me, lust is a very powerful emotion, Kallisto and I do not want you to experience something you will regret.”

“This isn’t lust and I won’t regret it,” she said, irritated and he sighed. She knew her own emotions. Did he not want to do this? Why wouldn’t he just say no?

“I don’t doubt you, I am just warning you,” he said. “Dibella is feared by us for a reason. Lust can make a man do the unthinkable.”

She flared her nostrils at him. “Can you stop being a wise old man for just a second? Do you know how hard it was for me to admit this? I’m embarrassed beyond belief already without you being a prick!”

He smiled at her words. “It’s the Imperial in you.”

“No, it’s not,” she sulked and he smile widened.

“Trust me, my little fawn,” he said and his hands came back, lacing into her hair making her lean into him, her anger only subsiding slightly. After all, she just asked him a simple request. By the Eight, she wasn’t proposing to him. “It’s the Imperial in you. Otherwise you would have pinned me down and told me we’re fucking whether I like it or not.”

She turned red at his words. “T-That’s crass.”

“That’s what I’m used to,” he shrugged. “Now, one last time. Are you sure? And I want you to think on this. Virginity is not prized by us but in some races it is. If we ever separate and it is known you let yourself get taken by a forsworn, you will not be treated kindly to by some… people.”

She frowned at his words, her heart thumping and his hands feeling heavenly against herself but she did as he said. She thought, though it was brief. “You mean like the Nords.”

“I mean like those Nords,” he said. “They do not treat women who sleep willingly with the forsworn with respect.”

She frowned for a second. “I don’t care.”

He sighed. “Alright. But also think about the fact this may not be what you expect.”

“What do you mean?” she said. Expect what?

“Sometimes it hurts when you take a woman’s virginity,” he said. “Sometimes it doesn’t. Women are all different. If you expect this to be like one of those tavern stories where you can’t stand after because of the pleasure then I hate to break it to you…”

“I know it’s not like that,” she frowned and he ran his hands through her hair making her nearly purr, her emotions mixing between annoyed and affectionate. “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were,” he said. “But you are inexperienced.”

So what? Now she was getting irritated and she cut right into it. “I want this Uraccen,” she said in a clear tone. “I want it. With you. I don’t give a damn if a Nord thinks I’m a slut for it either. I. Want. You.”

He stared at her, his brown eyes looking deep into hers making her turn pink again and he slowly drew away making her heart stop. He leaned down, picking up the bowl and bottle and he nodded to the rock which led to the small path.

“Alright. Come on. We’ll go back down and-”

“I don’t want to do it in the redoubt either,” she said quickly before he could finish his sentence and he paused. By the Eight she didn’t want to go back there. “I don’t… I want this to be just us. In private.”

He said nothing and she frowned. He didn’t move, his eyes on her and she found herself flushing. What else could she say? “O-Okay?”

He took a moment before he nodded. “Okay, my little fawn,” he said and he finally moved, stopping as he turned back towards the tree before he did go to it and set the bottle and bowl down, coming back to her side to touch her. “Come on. We’ll go somewhere private. Just the two of us.”

She nodded and now had to pause herself, her hands doing up her leather laces fast and put her helmet on and he took the time to hop onto the rock that led back down before her, waiting to help pull her up. She staggered making her shout but his grip was strong and he hauled her up making her clutch him. After twenty-two years mining, she figured he must be strong enough to pull her up. Still, she had to apologize.

“S-Sorry.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said before he motioned. “I’ll go first. If you start falling, tell me.”

“Okay.”

He began walking easily down the path and when it came back to the tiny ledge he went over it just like a goat would. She eyed him as he did and he stopped once he was on bigger ground. “Are you doing alright?”

She inched down the path. “Are you part goat?” she called and he cracked a smile which made her feel more relieved than she realized. “How can you do this so easily?”

“Well,” he smiled. “I don’t think I am part goat. Then again, I do get rather horny a lot.”

“Uraccen!”

He laughed. “You’ve never heard that one? I heard that when I was still a child.”

“Does it look like I grew up hearing dirty things?” she said as her face went red and she continued to inch along the path until she was in reach of him. He held out his hand and she took it, letting him pull her into his arms and he smiled at her.

“Pity you didn’t.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a wise old man?” she said as they began walking again. “Not a dirty old one?”

He chuckled. “I am older, my little field mouse. But being dirty doesn’t also mean being wise,” he said and she smiled a bit. “Who wants to be one or the other? I can be both.”

The path widened allowing her to walk beside him and she slipped her arm under his making him look to her before he took her hand, awkwardly trying to figure out how to walk in such a way. She guessed the forsworn rarely took leisurely walks like her people did but he soon caught on to what she wanted. She leaned into him, her cheeks turning a bit pink at the feeling. “I will say, I like when you are wise but I prefer you when you are dirty.”

He chuckled a bit. “Trust me, I’m sure you’ll prefer it even more after today,” he said and she flushed. “Come. Since you don’t want to go back to the redoubt, we’ll have to get creative.”

“C-Creative?”

He nodded, his eyes forward. “I suppose you don’t have a potion on you, do you?”

“No… I was going to pick up some later.”

He sighed but didn’t say anything. He let go of her, heading east down the trail as opposed to taking the slope that led down into the Druadach Redoubt valley and she followed him, taking another goat path that eventually turned to rock. “Uraccen?”

He paused and watched her before he went to help her over the rocks. She clung to him. “Where are we going?”

“Just down here,” he pointed over the rocks. “Then it’s a little further to where we can be alone.”

“I-If I fall?”

“I will catch you,” he reassured her and she did feel safer at his words. “Trust me. I’ll go first. Then direct you on how to go.”

“O-Okay.”

He leaned down and kissed her nose making her flush. “Confidence, my little field mouse. You need confidence.”

“I-I am confident!” she said defensively and he smiled but didn’t say anything back. He jumped down, easily going over the rocks and she went to the edge to watch him, flushing as she saw his back muscles flex with every turn and impact. When he was halfway down he turned to her.

“Alright, Kalli,” he said and she flushed deeply at the nickname. “Start by moving onto the rock to your left.”

“Okay…” her voice shook but she followed his lead. She went slow, her hands and legs shaking with every step and when she finally got to where he stood she threw herself into his arms making him laugh.

“You did well.”

“I hate this stupid Hold!” she panted, her nerves on edge and he laughed again.

“You just need lighter armor. Or to learn how to move in yours effortlessly,” he said and she flushed.

“My armor is an heirloom,” she said. The subject was beginning to get sore with her. She wasn’t going to just abandon the armor her grandfather had because it was ‘clunky’ to some. The original pieces were still in her bag in Markarth and she was never going to sell them. “I won’t abandon it.”

He let out a soft sigh and didn’t press it. “Come on, my little half mountain goat,” he teased and her face burned. “I’ll go first. You follow after.”

“Right.”

He began to jump down again. She watched him though with a little less fear and the same happened as before. He directed her, she went down slowly and on shaky hands and feet and when her feet touched the mossy bottom she nearly collapsed but he caught her, praising her for her courage.

“You did very well, Kalli,” he said and she let out a breath, her adrenaline finally calming down.

“Please tell me there’s no more climbing.”

“There isn’t,” he said. “We just need to walk down a few rocks.” She sighed but didn’t complain and he rubbed her shoulder. “Just a little further.”

She followed his lead, the grass becoming more numerous now and tiny flowers showing up and the sun started rising higher in the sky making birds sing in the distant trees. The wind was light and she was thankful for it as she felt it through her armor but it didn’t last long. He led her to a rocky outcrop, the rocks above sheltering them but the ground below covered in grass and as she went to join him he began to strip making her flush.

“H-Here?”

“Here,” he said, turning to face her and she flushed deeper. “It’s far enough from the redoubt that if someone went looking they wouldn’t find us but close enough we can quickly go back if danger comes.”

She nodded. So it was perfect in a sense. Still, she remained in her armor and he began taking off the pelt around his waist revealing his smalls underneath. She turned a bright pink as her eyes noticed the grey hair above the string band and she turned away. He looked to her.

“Are you going to strip or do you want me to take your armor off?” he said and she nearly squeaked.

“I-I’ll take it off!”

He chuckled. “Alright my little field mouse. Just don’t take too long.”

She burned. She couldn’t face him, not when she did this and she began undoing the laces of her armor, pulling her gauntlets off first. Her helmet joined them on the ground then her breastplate and boots before she worked on the armor on her thighs. The ground felt good under her feet and she wiggled her toes, feeling the dirt. It had been a long time since she had done such a thing and her giggling got her lover’s attention.

“What’s so funny?” he asked and she giggled, not looking.

“Nothing.”

“Kalli,” he said and she giggled more, wiggling her toes. “What are you acting like a newborn kit about?”

“The grass-” she said, turning to look at him and her words cut out, her body becoming stiff and she took him in. He stood with his arms crossed watching her which she didn’t mind but the fact that he was completely naked threw her off. Her eyes immediately went down, locking on the thing between his legs and she turned a shade of red she could feel to her bone and whirled back to looking away. Her heart pounded. She had never actually seen his… thing. She touched it through his clothes but seeing and touching were a different matter and she was as red as could be when he shifted behind her.

“Did I really startle you that bad?” he asked in a cocky tone and she flushed.

“NO,” her voice came out louder, angrier, and higher pitched than she intended and he laughed from behind her. “B-Be quiet!”

“My precious little fawn,” he said and she burned as she focused on taking the armor off her thighs. “Surely you have seen a male’s prick before?”

“Of course I have,” she stammered. “Who hasn’t?”

He chuckled. “Alright then…” and he said no more leaving her time to prepare herself. She finally got off all her armor, her thin tunic and smalls left and she slowly pulled the wool over her eyes, folding it neatly to stuff into her boot so as not to get dirty. She heard a purr from behind her and she turned and he was watching her, his right hand pressed against his chin and she paused.

“W-What?”

“Nothing,” he said in a light tone. “I’ve just never seen you fully exposed before.”

She covered herself in response and he smiled. “Now, no need for that.”

“You’re embarrassing me,” she said and he put his hands down. Then he started to walk towards her and she turned a snowberry red. She looked forward, her hands over herself tight and she could feel his presence get near. Her skin prickled at his hands touching her shoulders and his breath against her ear made her shake.

“Trust me, you have no need to be embarrassed,” he said against her and it was like electricity ran up her entire body from her head to her toes. Her skin was on fire and she held herself tighter. “Let me help.”

She breathed out hard. “I can do it.”

“I know you can,” he said. “I would just like to myself.”

“Dirty old man,” she said and he chuckled right against her ear making her knees weak.

“I told you, you’ll prefer me like this. Trust me,” he said in a casual tone. “And besides, I wasn’t the one who asked for my virginity to be taken.” 

She could have collapsed. 

He nudged her arm, slowly pulling her left one away and she let him take her arms off of her chest, his fingers casually sliding over her skin when he could and she squirmed. His hands were pale next to her dark tanned skin and he grabbed the fabric between her breasts and lifted up making them catch for a moment before they bounced free.

She covered her face in embarrassment when they did. “U-Uraccen!”

He chuckled by her ear and let go of her bunched up top, moving down to touch her hips making her freeze. “Turn around,” he said and she hesitated before obeying, her eyes cast downward and she caught sight of his cock again making her gaze shoot up in embarrassment and he laughed. “No need to be afraid of it.”

“I’m not afraid!” she pouted and he touched her hips again making her pause.

“I hope not,” he muttered and he began sinking down making her frown. He kissed her stomach and she inhaled sharply, watching him curiously despite the fact she knew what was coming and he eventually kissed above the strings that held her smalls on her body. She exhaled in one shaky, long breath.

“Uraccen…”

He didn’t say anything, kissing her skin again before he slowly pulled down, the string gliding off her skin and she went stiff with every part that was exposed. Her legs pressed together tight to stop it and he tutted at the action before he leaned forward and swiped his tongue against her exposed pussy.

“Uraccen!” she jerked and he ripped her underwear off her hips completely, letting them fall to pool at her feet. He spread her before she could clench her legs together and he fit his head between them, licking her body making her double over and grab his hair. “U-Uraccen!”

“Don’t tense so much,” he said but it was impossible and she dug her nails into his skin making him waver. “O-Or grip me so hard!”

She loosened, but only a little. “T-Then get your mouth away from there!”

“I have to do this,” he said. “I don’t have potions and neither do you. So it’s the old fashioned way of getting lubrication. With saliva.”

She tensed again as his tongue ran over her folds. “B-But-!”

“Trust me.”

She whined. It wasn’t that. She just… this was her first. She had never had anyone’s mouth on her and she never even had the thought until she had come to Skyrim. She assumed it was just some ridiculous thing tavern whores did because no one in their right mind would put their mouth there and yet here she was with her casual lover having it done. Maybe it was a forsworn thing.

She jerked when he pressed his mouth against her and sucked. Had to be a forsworn thing because this was making her feel incredibly dirty. Like she would have to pray to the divines after for forgiveness. Eternal forgiveness. He lapped at her, his tongue driving her wild and finally he pulled back.

“You need to lay down,” he said and she looked at him, shaking. “You’re clenching too much.”

She hesitated. “T-This is incredibly dirty,” she said and he raised a brow.

“Oh, my little naive field mouse,” he said as he began to stand and she felt something brush her thigh. She almost looked down but he grabbed her, hauling her into his arms making her squawk and her underwear fell off her foot, landing near her clothes.

“Uraccen!”

He took her more under the outcropping of rocks, falling to his knees hard making her squeal a bit before he gently laid her down. As he did he spread her legs making her flush as how much she was exposing of herself before he went down. His mouth was on her again and she tensed, her fingers grabbing the dirt under her.

“Relax,” he said, his hands rubbing her thighs. “This is pleasurable.”

“It’s embarrassing!” she cut back, her stomach taunt. He smiled a bit before he leaned down a bit lower, his tongue prodding her and she had to cover her face as she felt him trace her folds before he sank his tongue into her. She clenched and he pulled back.

“Kallisto,” he said in a steady tone. “If you want to lose your virginity, you need to relax.”

She slowly lowered her hands, looking at him, her face burning. “I… will. But this is embarrassing.”

He sighed, reaching to rub his eyes for a moment before he let go of her and he began climbing on top. She shrunk down under him, unsure of what he was doing and he grabbed her legs, spreading them to fit and she went stiff when she felt something foreign press against herself. She was about to look down when he tilted her chin up. “No, no. Don’t look down. Look at me.”

She bit her lip and obeyed. “O-Okay.”

“Put your arms around my neck,” he said and she slowly pulled her hands out from her side and did as he asked. “Alright, just focus on me.”

“A-Are you going to… put it in?”

“No,” he reassured her. “You’re not ready for that. I’m just going to rock against you and try and get you to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” she said defensively and he let out a slow sigh.

“Kalli,” he said in a stern tone. “You’re not.”

She puffed up her cheeks.

“Just… focus on me. Don’t look down. And just relax,” he said as he reached up to cup her head making a sort of pillow which did help as the ground wasn’t exactly soft. His hips adjusted and she squirmed a bit making his breath hitch before he leaned down and kissed her. She didn’t react at first before she timidly responded back and she gave him quick, tiny little kisses. He encouraged her more, massaging her neck and she tightened her grip on his, feeling his ponytail fall forward a bit as she did from his shift.

She started giving more open kisses when he encouraged her to do so, her skin prickling at the feeling of his tongue brushing her lips but she froze when thrust forward. “It’s alright,” he murmured against her. “Just focus back on me.”

“Okay…” she said, unsure. She started again, her lips starting to feel puffy as she let him push his tongue in more and he thrust slowly against her, the sliding motion feeling strange. She focused on him, their eyes meeting and he smiled making her flush and he kissed her a bit harder, his tongue pushing fully into her mouth. She let out a whimper, meeting it back with her own and she soon forgot about how odd the rocking felt against her. It soon felt pretty good and she slowly responded back, shifting her body.

He rolled his tongue over hers, letting go to kiss her neck and she squirmed under him, his breath tickling her making him chuckle. “You’re wriggling a lot more than usual today.”

“Is that bad?” she breathed out and he kissed her throat.

“No. Not when I’m on top of you like this,” he commented and he rolled his hips against her making her jerk at the feeling. It felt good. “You liked that?”

“Yes,” she panted and he did it again making her mimic it in turn. He smiled. “Like that?”

“Like that,” he purred and she pressed her mouth to his, doing the action again. It was actually rather easy to get to the point when she was in tune with him. The more he kissed her and made her light headed, the more her dignity seemed to melt away and she willingly was rubbing against him when she decided to be more adventurous. She leaned up, moving past his lips and kissed his ear like how he always did to her.

It made him stiffen. Oh. So, he felt the same as she did when her ear was teased? She had to try it out and she nipped at his earlobe making him pull back.

“Little fawn…” he said but she didn’t want to stop despite his warning tone. She giggled and leaned up, biting lightly on his ear and she tugged which made him jerk hard against her. She gasped and moaned deep.

“Uraccen…” she said hotly against him and he tensed. “Again.”

“Kalli…” he said again in a warning tone and she nipped at his ear. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

She giggled in response. “I’m not,” she teased and she grabbed his ear again, tugging a bit which made him shift rather quickly, his prick lining up against her and she sucked. He bucked hard and she gasped again before she bit his lobe again and sucked.

“Kallisto!” he snapped but she continued, working him into a state until he pushed her off and she hit the dirt with a cry.

“Uraccen!” she said, completely shocked at his actions but he didn’t meet her eyes and he bowed his head, his fingers letting go of her to dig into the earth and she suddenly felt rather frightened. “Uraccen?”

He paused, shaking for a moment and she shifted below him. “Uraccen? Are you… alright?”

“Yes,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Just… trying to get under control.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “It’s… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been rough with you over such a little thing,” he said after a moment and he leaned down, his mouth grazing over her neck again making her shiver. “Just relax.”

She whimpered as he nipped at her pulse. “I-Is it that lust thing you were talking about?”

“Huh?”

“You said lust can make a man do the unthinkable,” she said and he pulled back. “Are you struggling with that? Because I teased your ear?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he leaned back a bit. “…Yes. My ears are very sensitive. But I should have mentioned that before. Don’t worry,” he said but she didn’t feel very fine with his answer. She chewed her lip and he leaned back down, ready to kiss her again but she stopped him.

“You… don’t have to hold back,” she said and he pressed his lips thin. “I am a warrior. I can take it.” She wasn’t lying. She had been beaten worse before. The absolute thrashing she got from the Captain of the Imperial Legion in Solitude came to mind and she swallowed her fear, giving him a look but he didn’t seem satisfied. His brown eyes focused on her, the yellow warpaint around his eyes now looking intimidating and she wavered, biting her lip.

“Kallisto,” he said in a steady tone and she frowned. She was in for a lecture now. “Do you remember the night all of us and Madanach came to Druadach for the first time?”

“Yes...”

“Do you remember when it started getting very, well, animalistic?” he asked and she flushed at the memory of women and men openly having sex around her, not ashamed and how loud and almost frightening it had been to see and watch them. He rubbed her shoulders and she exhaled not even realizing she was holding her breath in. “Sex for us isn’t about slow measures. It’s rough and brutal. It’s about fulfilling a desire in you that can’t go away.”

She found herself fidgeting a little in discomfort. “You… want to… do what the other forsworn did that night to me.”

“I want to fuck without a thought,” he said. “It’s what I was used to for the longest time. It’s just the forsworn way. It’s the way that damned prison was as well. When you tease certain parts of me I can’t help it.” She shifted again in discomfort, not meeting his eyes. “But I promise you, I won’t do that. I will not hurt you Kallisto. I just… need to stop for a few minutes. Trust me.”

She finally met his eyes again and he was looking at her with a strained expression but his touch was still gentle and his eyes trusting. She exhaled and cautiously touched his arm, her fingers running over them.

“Okay.”

He kissed her and she fell back, dizzy from it. “Trust me, I will never hurt you,” he said again and she whimpered as he snaked a hand under her back to pull her close. “I just… I’ll warn you. Not on my ears. Not the back of my neck. And not the inside of my thighs.”

“O-Okay,” she panted, trying not to think dirty thoughts but their bodies were meeting again and her legs naturally fell open for him. He kissed her, deep, in a way that made her toes curl and when he parted he cupped her neck.

“That’s my little field mouse.”

She flushed. “A-Am I ready yet?”

“Not yet,” he muttered and she sighed slowly before they continued where they left off but with her firmly on the ground and him controlling from above. It was a bit strained at first but he got her back into it with a little encouragement from his tongue and she was soon thrusting against him with equal vigor.

“Now?” she whined, her body feeling hot and the friction between them starting to become unbearable. She stretched out more, grabbing at his forearms and neck and he smiled at bit. He reached between them, his fingers grazing her making her jerk and she panted when he rubbed her, his calloused fingers feeling irresistible against her soft body.

“Not yet,” he said and she whined loudly in frustration. “Although I think you’re relaxed enough now for me to continue doing what I had done before.”

“Done before?” she said and he got off her, sliding back until he was settled in between her legs. She watched him, her face flushed and she chest rising and falling a bit harder than normal and he leaned down. This time when his tongue hit her she didn’t clench and instead groaned.

“That’s what I want to hear,” he commented and she was pulled away from the outcrop a little as he went down and she arched to him.

“Mara have mercy!” she said making him chuckle as she twisted and she squirmed on the ground as he teased her worse than before. She was unsure on what he was even doing other than when his tongue licked up and lingered on her clit she because heavily excited in delight but the rest was foreign to her. It felt weird, how he explored her, and when he spread her she flushed, not sure what he was doing. She leaned up on her forearms to try and see but he held a hand on her stomach.

“Just relax,” he soothed. “Trust me.”

“What are you doing?” she whined.

“Trust me, my little fawn.”

She fell back down, frustrated, but she obeyed. He licked her more making her squirm a bit, her temperature seeming to rise when she felt something press into her. She leaned up but he wasn’t curled over her and she flushed deeply. “W-What is…”

“Just relax,” he soothed and she looked down, seeing his hand against her. She felt something in her curl and she gasped, tensing until he touched her thigh. “Just getting you ready, Kalli.”

“B-But what is that?” she asked. “What’s-?”

His hand drew away and he showed her, one finger completely slick to the knuckle. She turned red. “I-I took that?”

He reached back down and she felt the push again, her insides twitching and she let out a small groan.

“Just relax,” he said. “Trust me.”

She nodded but her eyes remained fixed below and he pulled out slightly before he pushed in and she breathed. It was a strange sensation and she whimpered a bit as he added a second, searching her insides, pressing against her walls and he brushed his thumb up making her jerk and let out a yelp of surprise.

“Still sensitive?” he asked and she nodded, breathing heavily.

“Uraccen…” she pleaded. “Don’t stop.”

He smiled a bit, his fingers sliding in an out in a slow rhythm making her eyes flutter before he added a third. She tensed at it and he rubbed her thigh.

“You took them quite easily,” he commented and she flushed, rocking against him. “Although I do recall you said you did have horse lessons once.”

“I-I did,” she panted.

“Explains the absence,” he muttered and she frowned.

“Absence?”

“Nevermind, my dear fawn,” he said and she bit her lip. “But, brace yourself a bit. I’m going to increase the speed.”

“Okay?” she said unsure of what he meant until his gentle thrusting turned a bit more forceful and she felt herself get pushed back. He began pressing more into her, his fingers delving in harder and she found herself flushing deeply at how good it felt. She leaned back, letting him do as he pleased, his fingers expertly working her and after a minute she felt back, her eyes closing and her legs pressing against him. She was beginning to feel dirty again, not unlike before but this time she felt differently about it. She wanted this.

Her breaths increased and she soon was whimpering his name, feeling him shift between her legs as she did. “Uraccen,” she called. “Uraccen, don’t stop! Don’t stop…” He began getting a bit sloppy and she moaned, riding his hand in an undignified way for it. She was turning him on, wasn’t she? The thought alone was enough to send her over the edge.

But before she could peak, he pulled back and she whined, twisting on the ground but he grabbed her and pulled her up, his lips meeting hers and she ground against him, acting a bit unlike herself as she wanted more and more of the sensations. He nipped her bottom lip. “I think you’re ready.”

“R-Really?” she stuttered. “Right now?”

“Right now,” he said, his eyes on hers and she tried not to get overly enthusiastic but she couldn’t help but slightly bounced on his lap making him raise his brows. 

“T-Then come on!”

He laughed. “Alright, you eager little thing. Lie back. And relax.”

She did as he said, spreading her legs to watch and he brought his hand up to his mouth, his cheek moving before he started rubbing himself. She stared, his prick becoming shinier and he brought his hand up again, running it once more over himself before he took her hips and pulled her close. She held her breath, her legs shaking in anticipation and she jerk early when he tried to mount her.

“Kalli…” he said and she let out an anxious giggle. “Steady.”

“I am,” she said, squirming still and he shook his head, moving to bring her hips up and he crouched a bit, his prick looking odd as it hung from him and he gently lined up where to go. From her position it looked like an odd tail and that got her going again.

She couldn’t help but giggle without stopping and he looked to her. “Something funny?”

“No, it’s… no,” she couldn’t help it. “It’s just that… it looks rather funny.”

He smiled a bit. “It’s alright to laugh. Sex shouldn’t be so serious.” She giggled again. “But lean up, Kalli. And don’t clench.”

“Alright,” she said, doing as he said and she felt him adjust them, the fumbling making her giggle until something hot pressed against her. He leaned over her, picking her up off the dirt to press her body to him and she stopped giggling, looking instead at his back, to the scars that still remained visible, the distinct change from his pale skin to even paler indents, some with light purple outlining them and he began to push.

She held her breath, closing her eyes, expecting for that hurt. She was waiting for the pain or a pop or her spine to give out or something. But it didn’t come. He… just slid in. There was a discomfort in her like she had sat down awkwardly on something long and hard but there was no excruciating pain. Or blood. Or an instant orgasm. She remained still, her eyes slowly opening and she leaned back a little, looking between them. He followed her gaze and she let out a shaky sigh. “I-It’s in?”

“It’s in,” he said.

“So… I’m-?”

“No longer a virgin? Yes.”

She flushed. “Wow.”

He laughed at her response and she shifted a bit, the feeling incredibly odd. It didn’t feel like she assumed it would. She had thought it would feel like a steel bar inside her, like she had been impaled on it or something since usually that was the word associated with having sex. But this was… odd. He was warm and she shifted until she could feel him sitting comfortably inside of her.

She bit her lip. “C-Can you move? Just a little.”

He did and her breath hitched. She could feel it move inside her, this sliding sensation that was so much different than anything she knew. “It’s not like your fingers,” she commented and he chuckled.

“No. I should hope not, considering I am much larger than three fingers.”

She looked at him. “B-But it’s… not hurting me,” she said. “Why?”

She watched him repress a smile and she lightly pushed his shoulder. “Hey, I’m a virgin! I can ask questions!”

“Were a virgin,” he corrected her. “And I suppose the old gods had the idea we were supposed to fit like this.”

“Why?”

“I really don’t want to explain to you how procreation works,” he said and she pushed him again. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I used to think Dibella did this to men and mer so we would be in agony under her because coupling creates such frightening lust for more. But this…”

He paused and she waited. “But this?”

He pressed his forehead against hers making her heart thump and he pulled her close, their shoulders touching, her legs being pulled to wrap around his waist and he drew his lips down, kissing her which made her toes curl and her body clench around him. He groaned which made her face feel like it was on fire.

“This is nice.”

She shivered at his words, her body tensing, her head becoming light and she gripped his back almost out of some sort of instinct. “Uraccen,” she whimpered. “Please, move.”

“If you want,” he said and she shivered again. He pushed her down a bit so her back was flat before he began to move and her hips moved back as he did. He pushed forward and she curled up with him before he began a slow, steady motion for her to get used to. She clung to him as he did, trying to decipher her emotions.

It was weird.

She did like it. It wasn’t unpleasant but the sensation was so weird to her. They rocked, his body tensing at times and she didn’t know what to do back. She tensed with him making him let out soft moans and as he began to speed up she continued to cling to him. Wasn’t she supposed to be going wild? She began to try.

She arched her back but it felt weird and she spread her legs against him but then she felt too loose. She pushed his chest up a bit, watching his hips meet hers but she couldn’t really see what was happening. The forsworn who went wild that day were practically screaming in passion at every thrust and she just felt like she was missing something crucial.

He leaned over her a bit, their lower bodies pressing together and she could feel her clit throb at the heat but the lack of pressure on it only made her frustrated. He let out a pant by her ear and she mimicked him, wanting to feel what he was when he grabbed her and held her tight making her freeze. He stopped and she waited.

“U-Uraccen?”

“I… need a minute,” he groaned, his voice hot and needy and she felt her entire body flame at it. She never heard him sound like that and it almost ignited something inside of her but it died when he calmed down. “Sorry, my little fawn.”

“I-It’s alright,” she said and he started again, his pace a bit faster but it didn’t make a difference. She still felt something was missing.

Slowly she did began to get worked up only because the sounds he was making was spurring her on. He was usually so quiet so listening to him pant and groan and his breath hitch and the small murmurs in his language when he thrust began working wonders on her. She rocked back against him, mimicking his movements and she could feel her stomach start to knot but before she could properly enjoy it he stopped.

“Uraccen?” she asked and he pulled out making her pause. “W-What?”

“I’m not going to come inside you,” he said and she flushed. He pressed against her thigh, his cock wet and she turned red immediately but a couple of jerks later and he was done. She lay under him, flushed, uncertain, and odd and he spent a minute collecting himself before he leaned up.

She looked at him, unsure of what expression to make and he stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing.”

“You look scared,” he said and she furrowed her brows instead to stop that. “Kallisto, you can tell me if something is wrong.”

She hesitated, not sure if she should voice her opinion when she found herself speaking. “That was it?”

“…That was it.”

“Oh.”

He frowned. “What were you expecting?”

She shrugged, looking away from him as her arms came up to cover her chest, her modesty creeping back. “Nothing that was… good.”

He sighed. “Kallisto.”

“What?”

“I know when you’re lying,” he said and she turned back at him, puffing up her cheeks. “Look, I told you it wouldn’t be-”

“How come it was so weird?” she asked and he paused. “Why… Why didn’t I-? Oh, forget it.” She leaned up, trying to get out from under him but he stopped her.

“Finish your sentence,” he said in a calm voice. “You didn’t come, did you?”

She flushed. “No.”

“Not every woman experiences orgasms through vaginal intercourse,” he said and she turned pink in secondhand embarrassment at his words. “Sometimes it takes time to.”

“Yeah, but…” she let out an irritated breath. “How come the forsworn girls at Madanach’s arrival were screaming and yelling and acting like they were being scaled.” She turned to look at him. “Why didn’t I experience that?”

His lips tried to crack into a smile but he suppressed it. “Those girls were in the throes of lust.”

“But I love you,” she complained. “Shouldn’t I have acted like that?”

He finally smiled and she flushed. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he assured her. “Kallisto, this was your first time. You’re only beginning to figure yourself out.” He rubbed her shoulder and she relaxed a bit, not realizing how tense she was. “You can’t compare yourself to a forsworn woman. You’re an Imperial girl. I doubt you experimented heavily on yourself when you reached a few years after puberty. You admitted to me the first time I ever touched you that was your first orgasm.”

She folded her arms, glaring at him. “So, it’s my fault because I’m an Imperial and I never shoved my hands down my pants when I was a kid?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said. “I just mean your culture is very restrictive on sex. We’re not. Girls openly learn about sexuality within our clans.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” she cut in. “You said there was problems with how many girls are getting pregnant before they even hit eighteen. Isn’t the whole open sex apart of that problem?”

His cheek twitched. “I never said we were perfect. And yes, we do have a problem,” he admitted. “But your first exposure to sex that wasn’t mentions of it was seeing it in a wild, animalistic orgy during a celebration. You never had an orgasm before that. Only a few months ago did you have one. Your expectations are off somewhat on what you expect to be experiencing.”

She flushed deeply at him and turned away. He rubbed her shoulders again but she didn’t bend to him.

“Look, if you want, I’ll teach you,” he said and she paused. “We moved too fast. I know you’re eager and I will honestly admit I let you rush because I wanted to hit this point as well but if you come out of it unsatisfied then that proves we need to scale back.”

“Scale back?” she said and he kissed her shoulder making her shift. “How far back?”

“To the beginning,” he said, his hands moving down her arms and he slid under her forearm, reaching between her legs and she stiffened. “To light kisses. And barely any touching.”

Her breath hitched as he touched her clit and suddenly she was throbbing again as he slowly began rubbing it, exposing the hood to tease. She squirmed. “Y-You’re kidding. I know how to kiss!”

“You do,” he said, pressing his mouth against her neck and she whined as he made circles around where she desperately needed to be touched. “But your kisses are still chaste and reserved. You want to do more but you don’t know how.”

“I know how!” she said defensively before she jerked as he started to pet her. Her stomach tightened quickly and her legs spread more as he ran his hand over her.

“You don’t let loose,” he said. “You don’t actually give your senses and mind up to that demon emotion Dibella has made.”

“You want me to?” she panted, twisting in his grip, her hand coming to grab his wrist to encourage him to go harder against herself. “You c-curse such a thing!”

“If you let it consume you,” he dragged his mouth up to her ear to lick, his tongue teasing the shell of her ear and she began to buck. “There’s a fine line, my little field mouse.”

She didn’t respond, her voice strained and she tightened, her entire body becoming stiff before he ran his fingers up and pet her clit directly in small, controlled strokes until she came. She covered her mouth, swallowing the cry in her throat and she clenched her legs around his hand, squeezing at the pleasure and pain that hit her. He pulled back, pulling her body against his and he softly shushed in her ear as he rubbed her thighs.

She let out a strangled cry, tensing still before she finally came down and her vision filled with black spots. “Mara have mercy!” she breathed and he smiled.

“Feel better?” She slowly nodded and he kissed the top of her head. “We’ll work on that. You tense a lot and I’m almost afraid you’re going to burst sometimes.”

She let out a shaky breath. “That’s… just how I react.”

“You can be taught to experience it differently,” he said as he fetched his smalls, leaving her for a moment to dress before he grabbed her gear. “I promise I will have you shouting so loud the entire Reach will hear the next time I take you.”

She flushed at his words. “When will that be?”

“When we get to that level,” he said as he helped her with her gear. “For now, we’re going back. I will only kiss you. Nothing more.”

She frowned. “And how long are you going to do that?”

“Until you are comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable now,” she snapped and he smirked before he leaned down, pulling her head back making her yelp and he harshly kissed her making her stop. His tongue was in her mouth before she could comprehend it and he opened his eyes, looking at her while he did and she stiffened. What was this? It felt incredibly powerful how he was overtaking her and she whimpered into his mouth.

He pulled back, tilting her head more and he nearly crushed their mouths together, his roughness making her shake and his teeth pulling her tongue. When he parted she gasped and he leaned up, looking down at her with a rather smug smile.

“You need to learn some things,” he said and she shook still, her hand coming to touch her mouth. “And you need to listen to me from now on. We will only kiss. Nothing more. You are not allowed to touch anything below my neck and I will not touch below yours. Understand?”

She stared at him, in shock, his harshness taking her off guard and she suddenly did remember that she was with a killer and not the gentle lover she kept making him out to be. “I… understand,” she said and his warm smile came back making her pause. But then he smiled like that. It set her emotions all over. “But… Uraccen?”

“Yes?”

“…I… can hug you, right?” she asked and he softened more.

“Yes,” he said and she slowly got up, her arms squirming under his to hug him tight and he drew a hand down her hair as he held her back. “I do love you too, my little fawn,” he said and she flushed deeply and held him tighter. “You do make me feel twenty years younger than I am.”

“Oh good, so you feel my age,” she said and he let out a soft chuckle. “But all this… these new rules…” she hesitated. “I’m… sort of scared.”

“Which is why we’ll take it slow,” he said. “Until you feel comfortable.”

She paused. “Can I make a rule?”

“Of course.”

“Nothing public,” she said and he paused. “I don’t want anyone but you seeing my body. And I don’t want anyone else to know.”

“I can agree to that,” he said and she relaxed. “But I will say, Kalli, that although I am with you, my duties in the forsworn goes over that. I will be with other forsworn when you are not around.”

She frowned. “Then can I make another rule?”

“…Which is?”

“Only men,” she said and she looked to him. He raised a brow. “Only… be with forsworn men. Please.”

He smiled a bit. “Only men.”

She exhaled. “And you can’t fall for them either.”

That made him laugh. “Trust me, my little fawn, no one has captivated me like you have.”

“I don’t know that,” she said. “You could find Borkul utterly irresistible once you get past that utter prick personality he has.”

“Trust me, there is nothing to Borkul but being a prick,” he said. “I’d rather fall in love with a cave troll. They’re just as violent but with better personalities.” She giggled. “Probably cleaner too.”

She began to laugh at his jeer and he held her tight, his hand burying in her hair before he slowly let her go. “A week. Come see me. I will come out to meet you so you don’t have to worry about the others.”

“What time?”

“After dawn,” he said and he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead and she flushed. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Okay,” she said and he let go, turning to leave and she slowly went back to her gear, putting it on when he came back making her pause. “Forget something?”

“Yes, one thing,” he said. “Where are you going after this?”

“To Karthwasten,” she admitted. “Then maybe Markarth.”

“If you go to Markarth, will you see Ualie?”

She paused. “I can go see her, I suppose.”

“Can you tell her to bring out some steel when she comes?” he asked and she nodded. “And, though this may be obvious, don’t tell her you lost your virginity to me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said awkwardly. “She doesn’t need to know what we do.”

She stared at him for a minute before she began to smile at the slight blush on his cheeks. “She does know, you know.”

“Kallisto,” he warned. “For all she is concerned, we do nothing of the sort.”

“She’s twenty-six,” she reminded him and he gave her a hard look.

“She’s a young girl.”

“I’m younger than her,” she pointed out and he finally went red which made her giggle. “Uraccen…”

“Just… don’t mention it,” he said in a weary voice and she shrugged, swaying a bit as she grabbed her top armor to put on.

“I won’t tell your daughter that her daddy is robbing the cradle.” He flicked her making her yelp. “Uraccen!”

“Be good while you’re out there,” he said, quickly giving her a kiss. “Don’t be a bratty little field mouse.”

“Will you leave me to dress?!”

“Yes, yes,” he said. “Next week, my little fawn.”

“Next week,” she repeated as she watched him disappear over the rocks, the sun now high in the sky.

 

 

\-------

 

 

Waiting a week turned out to be more difficult than she realized. 

After they parted and she had dressed, she traveled back to Karthwasten where Ainethach lived to do what she always did when she wanted to stay for the night - mine. It was too late in the day for her to make the trek to Markarth and with her lack of potions and her sore legs, she had no choice. Not that she minded doing work but on that day, she was distracted and missing Uraccen already. 

Initially she bubbled when began to think about what happened to her, her giggling and wondering if anyone could tell she had finally become a woman making her seek out company; She even went to Enmon but he didn’t seem to care as he always did. But when no one seemed to notice or care for her presence she soon sulked heavily as she went to the mine to dig up what she could. This wasn’t how she thought her day would end. Especially after the morning had been so good.

Even Ainethach brushed her off making her nearly throw a fit which confused him greatly but in the end she stayed though she sulked heavily as she did. Though that night she did have vivid dreams of her lover teasing her to the point where she went over the edge and she woke up several times only to find herself in darkness, her underwear rather damp, and her cheeks flushed red. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Her week in Markarth proved to be uneventful as well. The days dragged on, her eyes drooped heavily in the afternoon from boredom and when she was awake long enough to hear Kleppr make a last call, she knew she had to get out. She left on a Loredas, traveling back to Karthwasten where she did as the miners did and dug during the day. Her stint in Cidhna did make her thankful for that skill but the townsfolk not understanding how she changed annoyed her greatly.

Finally when Sundas came she prepared herself for the morning trek to Druadach Redoubt. She found some thin traveling clothes and she exchanged her orcish armor for a light green dress and a dagger was tied to her side in case she got in trouble. She would have preferred a mace or an axe but the ends caught on her dress too often and ripped it before she even went a mile. The best she could do was a dagger and praying to the divines nothing would harm her.

In the morning, before the light even hit the town, she left on the road to the north. Her shoes were new making her feet hurt but she endured and she was lucky enough that when she crossed the river and started her hike towards Druadach, the sun peeked over the mountains and lit the way as if Mara and Dibella themselves were blessing her day.

“It’s going to be great,” she told herself as she walked. “Just Uraccen and me starting over. This could be fun.”

She thought about making him maybe turn in his grotesque armor for something more civilized but that would have to be further down the line. For now, she was happy he wanted to be with her more and the next time he took her, she knew it would be better. Maybe the problem was they weren’t in the right position. She would have to ask the priestesses of Dibella the next time their temple opened.

And just to her luck, it was dawn when she reached the edge of Druadach Redoubt, the tree she usually stood by swaying in the slight wind. She adjusted her dress, leaning against the tree and she looked to the sky before she waited. He would come.

But as the sun continued to rise he didn’t show up and she soon was becoming worried, the sounds of the redoubt waking across the river with distant chanting and smoke billowing from holes in the cave. When he said meet her at dawn… did he mean in the redoubt? She looked down at herself and flushed. She wasn’t prepared for that. What if some lowly forsworn members attacked her? She’d never survive in a flimsy dress.

She was starting to panic when a voice came from behind her. “My little fawn,” it said and she jumped, whirling on her heels quick as a fox, her heart slamming against her chest from the shock of someone once again coming up from behind her. At first all she saw was a deer skull and ragged armor, it’s skin twisted and antlers rotten over the bone and she flinched. It wasn’t until the deer-skinned figure lifted his headdress a bit did she relax.

“Uraccen, don’t scare me!” she complained but she still went to half-tackle him in relief. He chuckled and ran a hand over her hair, his touch making her flush at how warm it was. “I almost thought you weren’t coming!”

“Of course I was, my dear little fawn,” he said and she glowed at the nickname. “But my apologies for making you wait. I was needed before I left.”

She eased off him. “How come?”

He waved her question aside. “It’s not important. Besides…” he leaned down and she giggled when his mouth brushed against her ear. She did want to know but his affection always overrode her mind. “I doubt you came to listen to politics. I do recall I asked to meet you with the intent of ravishing you.”

She giggled out of excitement and nervousness at his tone. “I thought you said we weren’t going to touch each other.”

“Ravish your mouth, my dear little fawn,” he said against her making her shiver at the feeling of his heat near her. He pulled back, tugging his headdress back over his face to mask himself and she found herself still smiling despite not being able to see him anymore. “Come. I found a place we can have some privacy.”

He took her hand and she let him lead her, both moving off the small plateau where her tree was. She blushed like an absolute child at the feeling of his hand in hers and she nearly stuttered as they began walking. “Is it where we were before?”

“No,” he said, turning to help her off a small rock, his hands putting hers on his shoulders making her cling to him and giggle more. She felt like a princess with the way he was treating her. “It’s a bit further away so I’m afraid if we get in trouble, you will have to hide. But I think it’s a better place for you. So you don’t get so embarrassed.”

She took his hand again once they were on equal ground and she squeezed it causing him to look back at her, his eyes hidden beneath the skull. “Well, it is embarrassing,” she said, ignoring the fact she couldn’t see his expression. “I don’t want someone to see me naked with you between my legs.”

“Why not?” he asked in a light tone. “I’m sure the first thought they would have is how beautiful you are.” She turned red at his words.

“N-No they wouldn’t.”

“Trust me. But if you disagree maybe their first thought would be I’m a lucky man to have such a lover,” he said. “Or maybe they’d be envious of the tongue bath you were getting.”

“U-Uraccen!” her voice squeaked in embarrassment and he laughed.

“Imperials,” he smiled and she had to push him a bit making him chuckle. She pushed him again, lighter this time, and he caught her, grabbing her right hand with his making her fuss. She wanted to stay playfully mad at him but his grip made her feel light and she soon was leaning into him as they walked. “Come, my little fawn. It’s just up here.”

“Where?”

“There,” he pointed at the edge of the plains, the trek for them still far. “In that cluster of trees.”

She looked to them, how dark they were against the green and gold grasses of the Reach and at first she was enthusiastic. After all, it looked like a heavy forest hidden behind the rocks where no one would tread. Perfect for their rendezvous. But as they got closer she soon found herself daydreaming on the possibilities. Uraccen and her in a dense forest by themselves. He said no touching but what if it led to more? The thought of him taking her in a hidden grove made her flush deeply. She wondered if she could make a flower crown before and pretend she was his fair princess and he was her king.

Her thoughts made her stagger and he caught her, the grotesque skull looking down. She waved him off, laughing lightly. “It’s nothing,” she said, her face becoming hot. He didn’t respond but his fingers brushed the small of her back and soon she couldn’t wait to get to the trees.

However, it wasn’t as dense as she initially thought. In fact, it was basically just a bunch of isolated pines in a craggy slope but there were enough lodgepole pines stretching to the sky to make it still seem secluded and dark. She looked at the heavily lichen-covered rocks, the cliff that was formed behind the cluster of trees dark from the lack of light and she frowned as she looked into it.

“We don’t need to go that far in,” he commented behind her but she still was curious. After all, what Imperial-raised girl wouldn’t be enchanted by the landscape of Skyrim?

“What’s in these trees?” she asked and he looked to her, the headdress still covering his eyes but she could tell from his body language he was wary to tell her. “Is… there something bad?”

His cheek twitched from underneath the antlers. “No. No, my little fawn,” he said. “We’ve had a problem with wolves around here. I suspect they had a den hidden in the rocks but that was a long time back. Nothing more.”

For once she could tell he was lying and she carefully watched him as he looked around. “If the problem before was long-gone wolves, why are you so wary now?” she asked with a frown. He didn’t reply. “Uraccen?”

“We’re not going to be here long,” he said trying to change the subject as he motioned to the mossy earthen ground. “Unless you really are disobedient.”

She flushed at his words but still, she was determined. “Uraccen, what’s in here? Why won’t you tell me?”

His shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh, slowly pushing his headdress up to rub his eyes. She folded her arms like a child, not satisfied with the lack of answers. She pressed him. “Uraccen…”

“Look,” he said in a tense tone. “We’ve witnessed adventurers come in here and never come out. Or they’ve never come out when we’ve been watching. That’s all.”

She bristled a bit and looked back at the trees, suddenly feeling cold. “That’s… unsettling,” she said but truthfully, that frightened her. The never came out? What happened to them? Was there something else among the trees?

“Like I said, we’ve had a wolf problem in here. I’m sure some idiots thought they would do a good thing and clean them out and never came back as a result,” he said as if to ease her fear. “Trust me, Kalli, if anything comes I will protect you.”

She was still wary but his words did comfort her and slowly she moved back to him, rubbing her arms a bit until he touched her shoulders and did it for her. She leaned into his warmth, gradually relaxing until she was pressing against him and her cheek rubbed against his bare chest making him sigh in content from above. That made her move her arms and she wrapped them around him, feeling rather hot as he was half naked while she remained mostly clothed. Was this where those dirty books her neighbors read came from? From seeing women embrace nearly naked Reachmen?

He let go of her only to take off his headdress and she had to look to him, their eyes meeting and she flushed at how easily he could make her weak. Even though she was standing down from him due to the slope making her shorter than she already was but he remedied it fast by picking her up making her yelp a bit like a pup. He turned her, carrying her towards a bed of moss right by the edge of the trees and she was gently laid down on it, his body hovering above. She couldn’t help but fuss, her breathing increasing as he came to straddle her and he dropped his headdress beside them, his fingers tracing her jaw.

She licked her lips, suddenly feeling parched and hot all at the same time. “Uraccen…” she said softly. “Are we starting?”

He smiled a bit. “Yes, my little fawn.” She tried to lean up to begin but he stopped her. “Not yet.”

“Why?” she said immediately like a bratty child which made him chuckle.

“Patience, Kalli. You need to learn patience.”

“I am patient,” she huffed. She was! “I waited a week for you!”

He laughed at that. “A week is not long.”

“Yes it is.”

He laughed some more, leaning down to press his forehead against hers and she squirmed, his nuzzling making her feel even more childish than she was. Her heart fluttered at his gentle stroking near her ear and she shyly nuzzled him back making him grin. His fingers ran down, the tips gliding over her throat to her collar and they danced there, the sensation more intimate than ticklish. She reached up, mimicking him and he adjusted, pressed his lips against her cheek to make her pause.

“Affection first,” he said quietly near her ear. “We’ve only really just jumped into it, never taking the time to focus on each other.”

She swallowed slightly, his words making her feel light for some reason. “We’ve focused on each other.”

“But not intimately.”

She fidgeted at his words. She was expecting this to be right into it until she was acting like a wanton harlot, not like a squeamish child over light touches and words. “I-I thought you said the forsworn are violent and quick,” she said making him lean up. “Not… like… um, this.”

He gave her a wry smile, his eyes running over her making her look away in discomfort at how she obviously struck a nerve.

“No offense.”

“My little fawn,” he said making her turn red. How could he constantly be so sweet to her even when she knew was being a brat? “I’ll have you know that your goddess of Mara is also in our pantheon.”

That made her perk up and she looked at him. “Lady Mara? You worship her?”

“I don’t personally,” he said, waving his hand a bit. “But she still plays into our stories. Mostly when teenagers and young adults are acting stupid. But she’s still there.”

“What do you mean?” she said, studying him. “That… your Mara is… linked with stupidity?”

“Mostly, yes.”

She puffed up her cheeks in a bit of irritation. How dare they! Mara was a wondrous goddess! He seemed to pick up on her annoyance and he chuckled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck but she didn’t immediately relent. If he was making fun of her, that was fine but this was her goddess and she wasn’t going to just accept his affection so easily. He chuckled from beside her.

“You’re pouting.”

“Mara isn’t stupid,” she said without thinking and he laughed making her shove him a bit. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he said beside her ear. “I suppose I should make this more clear. Dibella is the goddess of madness, lust, and vanity. A powerful, insane force. Her sister is the goddess of naivety, air-headedness, but also affection. She is what we see when a sabre cat nuzzles her cubs. Or when an old grandmother dotes on her new grandchild. She is a love that we can understand during peace but not during war or passion.”

She flushed a little at his explanation but still wasn’t satisfied. “Mara’s love isn’t about stupidity.”

“I never said it was. You did, my little field mouse. I just agreed she is linked with stupidity. Stupidity that usually comes when children do not heed the elders. Or with an bratty little cub pouting because she wants to talk religion instead of letting her elder try to get to know her better,” he cocked a brow at her.

She shoved him again and he laughed. “Prick.”

“Trust me, Kalli, I’m not the one being a prick here,” he said in a light tone. “But really, despite what you think, some of us do enjoy affection. Not all. But I do. Especially when I intend to keep my partner as it allows us to be more intimate spiritually as well as physically.”

She turned pink at his words. Did he mean that? He wanted to be more intimate with her not only physically but… spiritually? The thought almost frightened her and she slowly brought her hands down from his body, her eyes darting away. A question popped into her mind and she was speaking without thinking again. “Do… you show affection for the men you’re with?”

He sighed. “No. I have no intention of taking them on permanently and most see it as a sigh of weakness.”

She finally met his eyes, looking into them, how warm they were and she slowly reached up, her hand touching his face. It was relatively smooth, save for the small bits of dried dirt from when he was possibly sleeping and she traced his warpaint making him briefly close his eyes. The lines were so precise, unlike hers and as she wandered over him she thought of another thing to ask.

“Who else is affectionate?”

“Hm?”

“Who else out of the forsworn shows affection?” she asked and he leaned into her touch making her bring her other hand up, feeling his jaw. It was stronger than hers and she unconsciously brought one of her hands down to touch her own face while still holding his. He smiled a bit. It was so different.

“Braig. He shows some affection to Odvan when he thinks no one can see,” he said. “A few lower members I have seen get very intimate with certain partners. If they survive long enough, an elder couple will show it more. But it is few and far between.”

She wasn’t really listening as she ran her fingers over his lips making him look to her. She touched her own in response. His were hard in comparison from years she suspected of working in the mine, not to mention how much he spent in the sun now that he was free while hers were soft and, dare she say, virginal in comparison. It made her shiver and he gently took her wrist, holding her fingers in place before he pressed against them, kissing the tips. She tried not to show how much the little action made her heart flutter.

“Uraccen?”

“Yes?” he said against her hand as he pulled it up to kiss her palm. She nearly fainted right there from the small yet intimate action.

“Will… you still be affectionate to me? Even when I get older?”

He smiled against her hand, holding it for a second as his thumb went over her wrist making her heart pound and finally he leaned down, centimeters away from kissing her. She let out a ragged breath, wanting badly to press against him but she withheld to hear his answer.

“Of course, my little fawn.”

She moved first, her lips hitting his and he hummed against her, pressing back. She opened her mouth, her tongue pushing against him and he immediately pulled away making her squirm. Before she could even protest, he spoke.

“No tongue.”

“B-But-!”

“Not yet. Patience, Kalli,” he said again and she flushed in embarrassment. She was not a child to be scolded but he ignored her blatant irritation. He leaned back down, holding her steady to press against her again and it took all her willpower not to try and kiss him deeper. He noticed and rubbed her arms. “Relax.”

“I am!”

“You’re as rigid as an oak, Kalli,” he said and she flushed. “We have time. Relax. We’ll get further when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now!”

He pressed his forehead against hers, pushing hard making her sink against the moss. “Do I have to remind you what I said last time? When you are comfortable, we will move on and you are neither comfortable nor ready to move on.” She opened her mouth to protest but he put his hand against it. “Don’t argue. You know I’m right.”

She pushed his hand off. “I am comfortable right now with you!” she complained. “I know how I feel better than you!”

“Is that so?” he said, almost condescendingly. “So, then we should be able to just strip and fuck again, right?”

She paused. “W-What?”

“If you know your comfort level, then why bother with this? Let’s just strip. I’ll slick you up and we’ll have sex again.” He motioned to the ground. “Right here.”

“Wait…” she said, hesitating. “No, I meant-”

“What?” he said. “You said you know yourself better than me. You’re comfortable. So, why not get to it now?”

“I don’t want that now!” she flushed. “Gods, don’t you listen? Why are you being such a-”

“Prick?” he finished her sentence and she turned a bright red. He said nothing as he studied her and she felt herself grow hot in embarrassment as each second passed. So, what, he just did that to mess with her? To make her realize she was wrong and going too fast? She folded her arms, shamed and embarrassed, her jaw tight when his hand touched her arm making her flinch. She turned to glare at him when her eyes met his and his were once again warm and trusting.

“Kallisto,” he said in a stern tone making her pause. She hated this. She hated being lectured by him like he was her father which wasn’t something she ever wanted to compare him to. Despite him being older than her dad. “Please, just trust me on this. Just be submissive for once.” She puffed her cheeks a bit but said nothing. “You are not comfortable with even the slightest kisses. You need to learn to walk before you can run. Just trust me.”

She said nothing. Honestly, she never felt so up and down as she did when she was around him but slowly she wondered if that was because of her and not him. After all, he was being rational and she got angrier with herself over the fact that it wasn’t his fault but hers.

“Fine,” she said in an annoyed tone and she flopped back down on the moss. “Let’s go then.”

He frowned a bit. “Not when you’re angry like this.”

“Uraccen,” she started but he shook his head making her stop. He slowly moved off her, indicating she should get up making her glare at him and she did as he wanted, furious beyond belief until his hands touched her shoulders. He began to rub.

She tensed at first until he worked her harder and slowly and ever so surely, she began melting to his touch again. His lips grazed the crook between her neck and shoulder and she let out a small whimper at the motion. He kissed her tenderly before he pulled back, still massaging her body. “Just relax, my dear little fawn.”

And here he was, once again being incredibly sweet to her and she was filled with guilt. Her shoulders sagged and she stared down at her dress, her fingers fiddling with a thread.

She flushed in shame as she began to speak. “Uraccen?”

“Hm?”

“…I’m sorry.”

He chuckled and she smiled a bit at that. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “You’re learning.”

She flushed at his kindness but didn’t say anything more as he continued to make her melt against him, his strong hands soothing her flesh. When he started working lower on her back, his fingers gliding down her spine making her shiver she stopped him, turning in place to face him, her legs awkwardly moving over his. He watched her, drawing away a bit and she crawled into his lap, settling herself against him. She was equal to him, almost, until he tilted his head a bit and she bit her lip at the angle before she leaned forward.

It was chaste. Just her dry lips sliding over his, nothing more, but it still drew a breath from him that made her shudder. She drew down, pressing below his lower lip while she took care not to open her mouth too much and he reached between them to lift her chin up higher. He kissed her and she pressed back against him, her eyes closing tight.

“Relax,” he whispered against her making her fix her brows but she eased back a little like he wanted. He took the lead, moving her head a bit as he did and he brushed his lips against hers, leaving soft kisses against her skin. She couldn’t help but wet her lips, whimpering when he kissed the side of her mouth and he pressed against her for a moment until she felt almost light-headed before he pulled away.

“Part your lips,” he said and she did so without opening her eyes, her senses heightening as she felt his presence grow closer. He gave her a small kiss, his breath tickling her and her lips tingled at the sensation before he did it again. It was a slow succession of kisses, each making a soft sound between them and each making her lean to him more and more until she was pressed against his chest. She opened her mouth wider, letting out a soft moan the more quick kisses he gave until he finally pressed against her for longer than a second. She grabbed his arms, turning her head to get more and he pulled back. She whimpered.

“Easy, my little fawn,” he breathed and she flushed.

“More, Uraccen,” she begged and he chuckled. He rewarded her, pushing against her, his mouth taking hers for longer than ten seconds and she could start to feel her lips pulsing. Her breath was getting heated and her skin was beginning to prickle and he pushed her back in his lap, leaning forward to dominate her. She moaned when he kissed the side of her mouth, his movements careful so that she felt every motion. She squeezed his arms, her breath increasing as he dipped to kiss her neck and she wanted to return the favor. When he leaned up she got her chance and she pressed her mouth against his pale skin, kissing his jaw before she went down as he did. She dragged down his throat, kissing the crook of his neck and her body shuddered when his hands moved over her back, her dress riding up and for a second she wanted to throw him down and ride him like an animal.

But the thought pulled her back and she drew away from him, her eyes opening as she touched her hot cheeks. He barely looked disturbed before her and she quickly looked at him, chewing her lip in shame at her thoughts. He smiled. “You were doing well.”

She flamed red at the simple compliment. “T-Thanks.”

“Something on your mind?” he asked, his brow raising and she frowned. Like she was going to tell him.

“No.”

He chuckled and waited. “Whenever you’re ready, my sweet fawn.”

The nickname made her fuss, her feelings tumbling inside her and finally she acted when she could take no more, leaning back towards him. They resumed but it was slower again, with him gradually building her up back to the point where she was shifting in his lap out of pure desire for him. Her lips felt puffy and swollen, her mind sinking into a pleasant stupor as she gently pushed against his mouth, giggling when he nipped at her bottom lip. She started to get playful, mimicking him in teasing his bottom lip until he stopped her making her flush and bounce a bit.

“What?” she asked and he merely grinned.

“Would you like to go further?” he said and she slowly stopped smiling, her heart beginning to pound.

“Further?”

“Here,” he said softly, angling her again and he brushed his wet lips over hers before he coaxed her into opening up more. It was a deeper kiss, his tongue gently moving into her mouth and she absolutely quivered at the sensation which was over before she liked. “Like that.”

“Yes,” she whined and he smiled.

“Open up,” he commanded. “And slow, my love.”

The new nickname made her stop and she pulled back, staring deep into his eyes and he merely smiled. That made her heart absolutely pound and it went into her throat making her nearly faint. Gods, he drove her insane. Her voice wavered when she finally remembered how to use it and she gripped his arms gently to steady herself back in reality. “P-Please… say that again?”

“Which? My love?” he said and she shivered, her entire body feeling like it lit on fire.

“Yes,” she moaned slightly and he smiled, cupping the back of her head to pull her towards him and she let him. She opened her mouth immediately, her tongue hitting his before they even completed pressing together and he purred into her mouth making her grip his arms tight, her fingernails digging into his flesh. Mara have mercy, he drove her insane.

“Patience, my love,” he said when they parted and she panted at him before his mouth was back covering hers. His tongue was hot, the sounds between them becoming lewd and she panted at every chance, pressing against his body with eagerness. How she ached to have him fondling her or something more. He continued to hold her head, angling her to get a bit deeper making her moan against him and she dragged her nails down his arm making him pull back.

“Uraccen!”

“Steady, my fawn,” he said making her hiss. He didn’t move back towards her, making her stew for a minute before he continued, kissing her at the same slow pace making her squirm. He stopped again and she almost went mad.

“Uraccen!” she nearly shouted and he raised a brow.

“Steady.”

She whined, loud, like a bratty child would and he pulled back, waiting until she was done. She had to use most of her energy to keep from hitting him in frustration and finally when she calmed down, pouting as she did, he tilted her chin up. She glared at him and he laughed.

“Don’t pout.”

“Prick.”

“I told you, my love,” he purposely used the new nickname and she flamed red. “Patience is key. We have time.”

“I know we do,” she said, exasperated. “But you’re making me-!”

“Making you what?” he asked with a sly smile and she turned red. He chuckled, leaning towards her making her pause and he brushed his lips against her ear. “Hot? Bothered? Absolutely dripping for me?”

The words alone made her entire body shudder, her anger melting away fast into embarrassment and he grinned, kissing her ear before he nibbled it until she was gripping his shoulder, whimpering in pleasure. She never wanted him to stop.

“Trust me, there are things I want to do to you, Kalli, that even would make Dibella jealous,” he said and she pressed against him at the mere thought of what he wanted to do to her. “But I keep my word. We are taking this slow.”

She groaned in frustration. “But my body is on fire now.”

“Patience,” his tongue pressed against her ear and she pressed her legs together, feeling herself pulse at his action. “Pretend you’re one of those snotty elves. You will get a payoff, but not today.”

She whined. “Can’t you just touch me a little?”

He moved back, only so he could tilt her head a bit and he kissed her deeply, his tongue pushing against hers making her moan loudly in return. He withdrew before she could even enjoy herself, his lips starting to turn a bit red and he gave her one quick kiss before he stood and she stared at him.

“I’m going to fetch some water,” he motioned back towards Druadach and she gaped at him. He grabbed his headdress, pulling it on. “Be right back, my little fawn.”

“A-Are you serious?!” she cried, squirming in her place. This had to be a joke. “Uraccen! I’m going to burst!”

He laughed as he started to leave. “Patience, Kallisto.”

“You prick!” she shouted after him, her entire body on fire and she rolled around a bit, frustrated as anything as he disappeared, her mind a whirl of emotions and her lower body throbbing with only one thought. She hiked her dress up without shame, feeling herself to confirm and she was completely wet for him. She hissed in utter irritation. “You prick!” she said again to no one but the trees. Gods, she wanted to strangle him! Why did she fall for such a man! He was a sadist!

But she couldn’t leave herself like she was and she quickly began rubbing her fingers against herself, her eyes twisting shut tight as she tried hard to imagine it was him. Her head was light and her senses were off and she just began to think of him whispering her name against her ear when something snapping behind her made her jump. She pulled her hand away from herself, turning to look back into the trees but there was nothing and she slowly began to replace her initial hot feeling with an uneasy fear.

The branches snapped again and she pulled herself up, backing away slightly but she couldn’t see any movement. Was someone invisible watching them? Was there a person out there or something worse? She checked behind her shoulder, wishing Uraccen hadn’t left when he did and she heard the sound of twigs breaking again.

There was movement to her left and she let her hands burn at her sides, the flame spell she knew ready in case she needed it. She saw black bundles of twigs fall from the branches, one of them moving from weight and her eye followed it until she finally saw what it was.

A common squirrel. With a rather large pinecone in it’s maw. It was scurrying from branch to branch and she watched it until it ran down one of the trees and paused, looking around. From there, after it deemed it clear, it ran from the cluster of trees towards some of the rocks on the Reach’s plains obviously where its home lay, the pinecone still clutched in it’s mouth. She found herself laughing at it, her hand hitting her forehead in quiet relief.

“Of course,” she said. “How could I be so stupid?”

But she didn’t touch herself after. She was still on edge but it wasn’t from Uraccen. Alright, some of it was but now she was aware again she was in Skyrim which wasn’t the safest place. She sat back down, waiting for her lover to return and when he did she smiled at him making him tilt his head, the headdress being discarded once more. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“Hm? What?” he asked as he came to her side and held the goatskin flask for her to take. It was cold in her hands and she drank deeply from it, not realizing how thirsty she had been as he sat before her, waiting. She gave him the flask back once she was done, giggling a little.

“Well, you left me, bothered and aching,” she said and he raised a brow. “And I was about to relieve myself when I heard a noise.”

He paused. “What sort of noise?”

“Branches breaking, twigs falling, that sort of thing,” she said, waving it off like it was nothing. “You know, the type of noises young girls hear often when their lovers leave them at inopportune times.”

He said nothing but his eyes went to scan the area and she hid a smile behind her hand. He should be worried. After all, he did just plainly abandon her when she really did need him. This was just a little dish of revenge and she fully wanted him to devour it.

“What was it?” he finally said, still looking at the trees and she smirked, deciding to play it up more with some hypothetical questions that she couldn’t resist saying.

“What if I had been hurt? You said you’d protect me,” she pouted and he glanced at her before slowly he seemed to calm down and he took a drink from the flask. “I was all alone, Uraccen!”

“Considering you don’t seem to keen to tell me what it was, I assume it was nothing,” he said making her stop. “And if you’re fishing to make me guilty then I’m sorry my little field mouse but I don’t get worked up over nothing.”

Now she began to pout for real.

“What if I was in trouble?”

“I would have come,” he said.

“How? You couldn’t possibly hear me from the river,” she pointed out and he casually licked his lips, putting the cork back onto the flask.

“If you were in trouble, atronachs would have been conjured and your screaming would have been heard through the valley,” he said. “I would have come for you.”

“What if I died?” she said, flushing in annoyance that he wasn’t giving her any grace.

“Unless it was a swarm of pale walkers, I doubt a hundred damn Nords could take you down,” he said and she paused. “You are a daedra when provoked, Kalli. And I have faith if you were ever in serious trouble, you could survive until I came.”

She found herself turning red at his words. She didn’t see herself as that powerful. Yes, she could conjure up some incredible things but any adept level conjurer could do the same. And she hardly was a master at the mace and sword. But that was beside the point. The point was… he was right again, wasn’t he? She began to fidget in guilt until he whistled and she looked up. He patted his lap.

“Come, my little fawn,” he said. “You were getting rather worked up and I think we should continue.”

She didn’t move immediately, her ears burning at his words and he laughed making her fuss. She eventually moved, coming to sit back in his lap and he didn’t waste any time as he slung the flask around his back. His tongue was back into her mouth, his hands holding her head and she hesitated until he sucked on her bottom lip. Then she was back to being his and acting as stupid as she did before. Her tongue pressed against his, her kisses becoming heated and she moved to even hover over him, her hands gripping his jaw possessively as she tried to dominate. He chuckled, not resisting and she was about to damn well push him down and really take over when he stopped her.

“Uraccen!”

“Do you want to get a bit rougher?” he asked and she paused. “Like when we parted the last time?”

She slumped back a bit, still holding him, her eyes moving not to look at his and she bit her swollen lip. Like the last time…?

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked further. “When I tugged your hair and took your breath away?”

She flushed, the memory coming back and her fingers dug slightly into his skin.

“Y-Yes,” she had to admit.

“Do you want to do that?” he asked. She took a moment. Mostly because she felt like she was going to faint.

“Yes.”

He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. He adjusted her on his lap, bringing her closer making her grip his shoulders and he pressed his forehead against hers making her bite her lip at how close he was. “Tell me if you want to immediately stop,” he said softly, his breath tickling her. “Don’t wait.”

“O-Okay.”

He smiled and kissed her nose. She closed her eyes when he did, her ears turning pink until his hand snaked up and grabbed a fistful of her hair making her freeze. She opened her eyes but he was already leaning in and she quickly calmed herself as she let him kiss her. It was gentle, just as before, but the fact his hand had a mittful of her hair made it feel so much more… raw and dangerous. It was just a kiss but she felt like it was something more. Like he could flex his dominance at any time and the thought made her moan against him.

His eyes flicked up but he didn’t ask. Instead he shifted her, showing her the power he had over her with just her hair in his hand and she moved to lean against him, panting when his tongue moved over hers but their lips didn’t touch. He jerked her up making her wince and spout out a small ‘ow’! But she didn’t ask him to stop and he eventually continued. His mouth became harsher against her, his gentleness melting away and by the time she was catching on to his rhythm, he was treating her like he did the week before.

Brutal wasn’t the word for it. It was more clear male dominance and somehow it turned her completely on. She loved that her pleasure was within his hands, his teeth scraping her lip roughly but he chased it with his tongue. He pulled her up by her hair making her struggle, his desire becoming more and more rough and animalistic when she broke their contact, gasping for air which she realized she badly needed.

He eased off. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, her mind in a haze. Whatever that was, it was intoxicating and she slumped against him. “Uraccen,” she purred. “I’m feeling hot again.”

He let out a soft, relieved chuckle.

“Do you need to catch your breath?” he asked and she nodded, her entire face flushed.

“Where… did you learn these things?” she asked and he looked at her with a frown before he smile almost sheepishly. It was cute in a way. Until he had to ruin it with his old age talk.

“I’m old, my dear fawn. I’ve had a lot of time with both women and men to practice.”

She flushed. Of course. But the mention of his partners did make her pause a bit.

“Uraccen?”

“Hm?”

“Were you ever married?” she asked and his face fell a bit. That made her worried. Did he ever have a wife? It suddenly occurred to her she had never asked before. Was he married now?

“Married? No, not ever,” he said and when she started to frown more, he did as well. “Why?”

“Well…” she found herself pressing her lips together tight. If he was never married that posed another big question. “Who is Ualie’s mother?”

He said nothing before he tried to suppress a smile and she flushed. “Uraccen!”

He tried not to chuckle. “Ah. You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” she spat and he smirked. She shoved him in response.

“My dear little field mouse,” he said with a grin that pissed her off. “Ualie’s mother… Hircine, I don’t even remember her name.”

That was actually a shock. “…You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I was young when my daughter was born. Barely above a teenager. Younger than you, in fact. A Reachwoman and I got involved when Markarth was still ours, Ualie was born, then Markarth was violated by those disgusting beasts you call Nords. The next thing I knew, my daughter was growing up on the run and I needed money. I can’t even recall where her mother went. One moment we were together and the next she was gone and Ualie and I were alone. I handed off my daughter to my then-living mother to keep her safe since my mother was respected, even by those bastards. Then I took up a position to just get by.”

She frowned at him. “You… have no idea what happened to her?”

He sighed. “No. I assume she went to fight for Markarth back. But who knows. I wouldn’t blame her if she simply left. A Reachwoman with no home, no money, and a rocky future saddled with a daughter and penniless lover? It’s not easy.”

She couldn’t help but give him a look of sympathy. “I would have stayed,” she readily admitted. He smiled at her. 

“Trust me, my little fawn, it was a tough decision. For both of us.”

“Still,” she insisted and he smiled more, pressing his lips to her forehead and he said something in that strange language of his. It reminded her of the redoubt and once again of his initial lateness which he brushed off. She found herself moving back, now wanting answers more than intimacy. “Uraccen, why were you late today?”

He continued to smile at her but it became slightly strained. “I just got busy. Trust me, I didn’t realize the time.”

“Did it have something to do with Madanach?” she asked and for once his amusement faded.

“No,” he said in a hard tone and she frowned. He never took that harshness with her. But instead of backing off, she inquired further.

“Did it have something to do with the redoubt?” she pressed and he shifted, uncomfortable. “Is there something-”

“Everything’s fine, Kallisto,” he cut her off making her stop. “I just… I was late. It won’t happen again.”

An uneasy tension fell between them and she slowly pulled her hands off his body, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and he muttered something, his hand reaching up to rub his eyes. This was unlike him. And it frightened her.

“I… I’m sorry, my love,” he said and she burned at the nickname but not over lightness but over how it sounded like he said it just to make her forgive him. She found herself shutting down. After all, she just asked a simple question. Getting a rough treatment for it seemed hardly unfair but she wasn’t in the mood to argue. She took the defeated route.

“S’okay,” she shrugged. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s not that,” he sighed and she was drawn into his arms, her body stiff despite his attempt at comfort. “I’m sorry I was late. I really did lose track of the time. I thought you were going to be late anyways coming from Markarth-”

“Karthwasten,” she corrected him automatically and he paused.

“Karthwasten?”

“I came from Karthwasten,” she said against him.

“What were you doing there?” he said in a surprised tone and she shrugged against him, still a bit stiff. She decided to just answer truthfully and mindlessly. After all, that seemed to pacify him the best.

“I sleep there.”

“What?” he said almost like she was lying and she furrowed her brows.

“I sleep there,” she repeated, a little annoyed.

“There’s no inn there.”

“Ainethach lets me stay if I dig up enough ore.”

She felt him tense underneath her. “That sorry excuse for a Breton makes you work to sleep there?”

That was unexpected. He was becoming a bit harsher below her and she shifted, uncomfortable but she again wasn’t in the mood to argue. She found herself flushing as she thought of the best way to defuse him. “…Well… I can’t stay there for free.”

“Fucking bastard,” he said and she blinked in shock at his words. She finally pushed him away, their eyes meeting and he looked… angry. She drew back a bit in discomfort. She had only seen him angry a few times and each time had led her to tears. The fact that he was so angry she was at Karthwasten threw her off and his anger at Ainethach was even more puzzling. She cleared her throat, watching him cautiously.

“Uraccen?”

He avoided her eyes, his cheek twitching before he ran a hand through his hair.

“Uraccen…?”

“What?” he said in a sharp tone and she flinched making him pause. Her single action seemed to pull him back to reality and he touched her gently but not enough to soothe her. “Kalli, what-? Kalli, what’s wrong?”

She pursed her lips. Could he not tell? She went with the simplest answer. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not.”

“You sure look like you are.”

“I’m not. Not at you,” he said but it did little to comfort her. He was, after all, known to be a violent man by everyone and she constantly forgot about it until she was faced with it. He seemed to sense her fear and he touched her arm making her stiffen slightly. “Trust me, I’m not. But… if you need somewhere to stay, you can sleep beside me.”

Ah, yes, in the redoubt with a bunch of people who hated her. No thanks. “…I… prefer not to stay in the redoubt,” she said in a slightly negative tone. It seemed to rub him the wrong way and his hand withdrew.

“But you’ll stay with a sellout Breton who makes you work to get a bed?”

She turned a bright red. How dare he! After all this? She went from miserable to pissed and she didn’t hold back her tongue as she straightened herself, becoming cold to him. “Well at least he makes me feel welcome.”

“Kallisto.”

“Forget it,” she said and she moved to get up. After all, this was going nowhere. She half wished she never said anything but it was too late for that now. She looked to the south. “I should probably get going.”

“Wait,” he said, missing to grab her and he cursed. She pretended not to notice. “Fuck, Kallisto!”

She staggered from him, awkwardly rubbing her arm and she turned, intent on walking away but his arms came around her and he made her stop. She would have stomped on his foot if she was level with him but she wasn’t. Could she kick him in the shin? Though, that seemed mean because what if she missed.

“Kalli, I’m sorry.”

“Uraccen, it’s fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She wanted to leave. Now.

“Obviously it isn’t,” he said and she tried hard not to cross her arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you what to do.”

No, he shouldn’t but that was also beside the point. She felt her face flush in anger. “Why do you not like Ainethach?” she said in a haughty tone. “Why don’t you like your own kind?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It sounds like you’re just being an asshole,” she said rather loud and his grip tightened briefly before he relaxed. As if he was calming himself down.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said and she blinked. What? “I am a prick.”

That made her flush a bit and slowly she turned around to face him, his eyes meeting hers. She chewed her lip. Did he just admit he was wrong? She was completely taken off guard and even more so when he cupped her head, his fingers gently holding her making her heart flutter. What was this? She decided to just be truthful in what she thought.

“I don’t like it when you get angry at me.”

“I’m not,” he said, his hand moving to brush back her hair. “Kallisto, I’m not.”

“You sound angry.”

He sighed and she pressed her lips together when he did. He was acting like her father which was starting to disturb her.

“I’m not,” he said once more but she still wasn’t satisfied. She gently pushed at his hands, wanting to now just leave. They could do this another time but he held her tighter making her fuss.

“Kalli, don’t leave,” he said softly and she flushed at his soft tone. “Not yet.” His voice went quiet and she stopped. Now he was sounding vulnerable. Again, her emotions went everywhere. Was this what going mad was? Was being in love a criteria for that? He pressed himself against her and she almost could feel his heart beating making hers quicken and she felt that guilt inside her again. She didn’t understand this or men but his vulnerability was making her reconsider.

After all, he was nothing but kind to her when she acted the same way. She let out a soft sigh, looking to the trees. “Will you stop being angry?” she finally said.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a breath. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she replied and that was that. They would resume.

She moved back towards where they had been, her arms still hugging herself and he sighed, reaching to touch her neck. She didn’t respond, still a bit tense until his lips touched her bare skin. He glided them down to the crook of her neck, leaving a tender kiss but she still couldn’t relax fully. After all, her emotions were still mixed. He began leaving more, his mouth remaining longer on her skin, sucking slightly until she let out a whimper before he repeated the action on the other side. He left a red mark where he had been, his mouth trailing to her ears and he teased the very tip making her squirm.

“U-Uraccen!” she whined and he drew his hands underneath her chest, holding her steady. His tongue continued to tease her ear, licking a spot behind it until her knees nearly gave out. “Uraccen!”

He turned her, his mouth hitting hers before she could comprehend it and he kissed her deeply as he had been doing before, stealing her breath away making her light headed. He pulled back, letting her breathe before he did it again, becoming more dominant and she found herself submitting. Finally her knees did give out making him catch her but he lowered her to the mossy earthen floor, kissing her as he did and she gripped at his neck. She was starting to lose her senses again.

He sucked her tongue making her pant. “Uraccen…”

He didn’t let her speak. His mouth was over hers, his tongue encouraging her and his kisses became rather frantic for a second before they went back into that slow, drawn out motion that made her feel like she was drowning. Her hand went into his hair this time, tugging at the silver strands and he tilted her head to the side, softly groaning into her mouth. It made her utterly shudder, her body feeling weak and she spread her legs, letting him fit between them. He was perfect against her and her toes curled when he massaged behind her ears, breaking their breathless kiss to let out a soft pant.

She felt light headed and drunk, like she had too much mead and he kissed the side of her mouth.

“My love,” he breathed and she whimpered in response. “Forgive me.”

“I do,” she drawled out and he let out a soft laugh which made her feel better. Honestly, what was she angry about again? Now she couldn’t even remember. “Just kiss me, Uraccen.”

“With pleasure,” he said against her and she was once again swept up into his arms, his mouth dominating hers. As he controlled their tempo she realized she wanted more and she pressed her lower body against his making him stop. He parted, looking between them and she panted, her eyes lowering slightly to give him a lustful, hazy look.

“Please,” was all she said. He looked to her before he pressed his lips thin. He shook his head and she began to furrow her brows. “Please, Uraccen!”

“Not until you’re comfortable,” he said making her glare at him. “I promised myself that.”

“I am comfortable!”

He smiled a bit. “Are we really going to go through this again?” he said and she flushed.

“Yes!” she responded and he chuckled. He looked between them then back at her and he pressed his mouth to hers again, denying her his tongue before he pulled back. Slowly he grabbed the waist of her dress, inching the fabric up and she began turning pink. She spread her legs, reaching to help him and when he hiked it to around her waist she let out a pant.

“Fuck me,” she begged and he closed his eyes but shook his head.

“No.”

“Uraccen!”

“Not this time,” he cut in. “Not after today,” he said as he moved to kiss her once more, his mouth remaining closed. “Next time, we’ll work more on this.”

“A-Are you kidding?” she spat and he gave her wry smile. “Why’d you hike my dress up then?”

His fingers reached down and she felt as if electricity coursed through her when his fingers slid over her folds. Oh by Mara, she was sensitive. He merely checked her more, his fingers prodding her gently.

“You’re damp.”

She twisted. “You made me!”

He smiled at that, his fingers lightly teasing her making her whine loudly before he kissed her throat. “I know I did say no touching but considering you are absolutely slick, frustrated, and hot, I think I can make an exception to ensure you’re pleased.”

She looked to him in shock. “Y-You’re going-?”

He nodded, kissing her cheek. “Not very fair I can get relief when I wish but you can’t.”

“It isn’t fair!” she agreed, her hips aching to move and he chuckled next to her which made her squirm.

“Lie back,” he instructed and she did, gripping her dress as he began swirling the tips around the center of her wetness. He gently drew up, hooking his fingers on the edge of her smalls before he pulled down just enough to expose her and his hand slid between her legs. She clenched her thighs against him, groaning as she did.

“Do you want this slow or quick?” he asked and she slung an arm over her eyes, her body pulsing against his hand, her lips swollen and her mind a haze.

“Fast!” she said and she heard him chuckle.

“As you wish, my fawn,” he replied and his fingers moved up, spreading her to find her clit and he started to pet it. She clenched around him, her back arching slightly off the ground.

“Uraccen!” she whined and he increased his speed, his fingers soon slick with her own wetness, his rough fingertips making her feel as if she was going insane. He swiped his fingers over her, nudging her clit with a gentle, teasing motion and she found herself spreading her legs more, withering under him. “Uraccen!” she called louder, her toes curling as he didn’t let up. “Mara, don’t stop!”

“You like this?” he asked and she let out a wanton, needy moan in reply. She felt like she was on fire, even moreso then when he took her the last week and she couldn’t believe kissing had driven her to this point when he increased his speed.

A few strokes was all it took and she shouted, her thighs slamming together hard as the sensations blinded her and she twisted in her pleasured agony, grabbing the dirt around her before she collapsed and he slowly drew his hand away. She lay before him, her dress hiked up, her underwear at mid-thigh and her hair was a mess making her cover her face in embarrassment. He chuckled and pulled her hands back, kissing her deeply.

“You are adorable when you come.”

“Prick,” she panted and he chuckled again, kissing her once more.

“I need to get back,” he said and she whined lowly at his sentence in frustration. “I know, my little fawn, but I must.”

“Stay,” she pleaded and he kissed her temple.

“Next week. At dawn. Come back,” he instructed. “I promise I will be waiting for you.”

“You won’t be late?” she asked and he smiled.

“I won’t be late.”

“Alright,” she let go of him, watching him stand up and slowly she began dressing, her underwear being pulled up first. He ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it down before he helped her up and kissed her once more. She let him with a sigh, grabbing his arms to feel him once more before he withdrew.

“Be good, Kalli,” he said and she flushed.

“I will.”

He smiled. And with that he left, his headdress grabbed and thrown on and he was off like a stag in the winter, his furs making him blend in with the Reach’s plains. She waited until she was sure he was gone before she began moving herself, her legs a bit wobbly but she managed to move into her normal pace after a few minutes. She still felt hot and now she was sticky to top it off making her flush deeply at what they had done. Still, she liked it. And she liked him calling her his ‘love’. As she began to walk, she wondered if she should come up with a name for him for the next time. After all, she wanted him to be something to her as well.

“Think, Kalli, think,” she murmured, her footsteps light as she made her way to the river to cross back to Karthwasten. Maybe she should ask someone there about pet names though the thought of him being cross about it made her hesitate. She didn’t understand his hostility.

Maybe she should just come up with something simple. Or maybe nothing at all. She sighed and continued walking, a slight breeze blowing from the Druadach mountains making her shudder when it hit her skin. She had a week. Plenty of time to think. For now, she should get back and pretend as if nothing happened.

Though she did wonder if her swollen lips would give away what she had been doing.

 

 

\-------


	30. Serpent - Earth - Soul (F!DB/Dragon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Request: I really REALLY want ti see a fic where a dragon is just falling head over heels for the Dragonborn. Maybe they're the most badass or the most relaxed type of dragon on the planet, but such a dork or a hopeless romantic when it came to his Dovahkiin c: I guess you can see where I'm going with this. I just want to see some confusion of feelings, fluff, maybe even some angst? Some denial of feelings here and there, though all I ask is that the DB returned said feelings. Smut is most certainly encouraged, though I won't cry if you decide against it.

It was her second encounter with an Elder dragon. The bronze beasts did not take to her too often as she tried to equally avoid them but this one was she couldn’t hide from, just as she couldn’t the first time she saw one of the monsters come down from the mountains of Winterhold. It roared, the trees shaking and she ran, hoping to get away in time for it to pass over but it was too late. It saw her and became fixated leaving her no option but to turn to fight.

Her bow was pulled out, the ebony shining in the light and she shot an arrow at the monster, its quick turn to dodge it making it fly into the air and disappear. She cursed, grabbing another arrow but the beast landed making her fall as the ground shook. The bronze dragon, with scales of gold and white and black spikes adorning its back let out a roar and she glared at it, panic setting it.

She opened her mouth and shouted – just as the dragons did – and her apparent kin was hit with fire, knocking it back a bit giving her time to stand and load her bow. But it did not do anything after, its eyes blinking before it turned to stare at her. She held her bow steady, aimed at him, and they locked in a quiet battle; whoever dared to move first would be subject to attack.

After a while, the beast’s maw opened. “You are a dragon,” he said making her stare in shock. He spoke the human language. “You are who they all speak off across the winds.”

She flushed and pulled her arrow back further. “Leave, worm. And I will not kill you where you stand and drink in your soul!”

The dragon said nothing but his wings spread. He took to the skies, circling once before he went back over the mountains of Morthal to disappear into the snowy clouds and she was left shocked that the thing had listened. She began to leave, running down towards the open plains of Whiterun, the thin herds of deer running when she neared and a roar drew her attention up. She grabbed her bow and the Elder dragon came back down, the ground shaking again nearly knocking her off her feet and she struggled to right herself.

It looked down at her before opening its mouth and it dropped a dead elk before her making her stare, her hands shaking as she tried to hold an arrow. He bowed to her making her dumbfounded before he took off again, his body moving back towards Morthal leaving the carcass for her.

She turned and ran, not wanting to stick around to see what else the dragon was going to bring. She had no idea why it had brought her a dead animal but it hadn’t attacked her and that was all she cared about. Dragons were strange, their natures seeming to run from ornery to extremely pissed off and despite this one not falling into the typical category she still fled back to Whiterun, diving into the brush when she heard distant roars.

When she finally entered the city, breathing out as she did, she was approached by Adrianne, the young blacksmith eager for her ore. “Did you run into any trouble?” she asked and Sira sighed, shaking her head.

“A dragon almost attacked but it decided not to,” she said. “Guess my reputation is finally being know to the lesser worms that I killed Alduin.”

“Well, we’re all grateful for it,” she smiled. “Are you going to your manor in Falkreath soon?”

“I’m not sure. Why?” She looked down at the ore in her hand and Sira sighed. “You want more? I thought you said business was slow now that the Stormcloaks are running the province.”

“It is… but I have ideas,” she said with a weary smile. “New weapons to craft, stronger than before. Once those bastards see the make of my steel and iron, they’ll come.”

She gave her a soft smile. “I hope so.”

“As do I,” she said before she snapped out of her mood. “So? Can I ask for you to just do me another favor by getting some ore from Falkreath?”

“It would be my pleasure, Adrianne.”

“Thank you, dragonborn,” she smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled but said nothing more. Without her, she would have her business running again as she was the one who led the Stormcloaks to victory over the province. The poor woman wasn’t bitter about it like she should be but it still made her sad with guilt. She shouldered her pack and returned to her home, the fire in the hearth burning bright making her sigh.

She would leave tomorrow then and find whatever ore she could. For now, she was going to relax, happy that she drove a dragon off and had momentarily helped a friend. She earned her time to spend her evening de-stressing and she grabbed a book and a carrot, falling into her bed as the night began to cover the city.

She was asleep when her housecarl came in and up by the time she had gone to bed. She left her a few gold as her pay for the month and took off in the early morning towards Riverwood, the sky still dark and the sounds of the nocturnal wildlife echoing in the air. Halfway to the sleepy town a dragon’s roar drew her eyes up but there was nothing near making her frown.

She quickened her pace, running up the winding trail and the roar came again, sounding off the mountains towards Falkreath making her sigh. Damnable worms. She was hoping when Paarthurnax had taken over she would have more allies but still the dragons saw her as a meal. The Elder dragon from yesterday, in fact, was the first that didn’t immediately attack. It made her curious but not so much as to seek the monster out to see why.

She still wondered about the dead deer. Was it an offering? Or was it merely showing her what he was capable of? Whatever it was, it was odd.

She reached Riverwood and took to the Trader, her friends greeting her immediately and she was invited to breakfast which she happily took. They talked of the dragons, of the trading slowing down and of the new High King of Skyrim before she had to leave. Before she did, Carlotta grabbed her hands.

“Thank you for coming in,” she said. “Lucan has been a bit more depressed since the trading has slowed. It… It means a lot to us.”

“Yeah… Yeah, not a problem,” she said before Faendal came in making her leave the lovebirds alone. She looked back at the Trader, guilty, before continuing down the path to her home. Nothing else came to her and she was left alone, forgetting the problems of others until she came across Marcurio on the deck.

“You’re wanted in Markath,” he said as he gave her a note and she took it, annoyed. “Have fun!”

“You couldn’t have denied this?”

“Sorry, horker-butt,” he grinned making her glare at him. “You said accept all letters. So I do! As your humble, low-paid servant.”

“Ass.”

He only grinned and went back to drinking up her wine.

 

\--

 

She had to bathe after the work she had done, the stench of dead goats and briarheart blood fresh on her skin. Of course she had been called to clear the roads of forsworn as the damned new Jarl of Markarth was too cheap to pay his own guards to do it. She got a measly hundred septims from the task making her annoyed but she couldn’t protest. He had given her gold, which she almost didn’t expect, and allowed to purchase property in the city which she declined. Markarth wasn’t for her.

Right now she had to scrub her skin and get herself dry when a roar drew her eyes up and she sunk into the water, watching the skies. There were sounds near of a fight, the roar of a dragon expelling fire all too familiar to her ears and she frantically looked around, not wanting to meet such a beast while naked when a shape came from the sky.

Its body was bronze, its frame large and she dove under the water praying to Talos it wouldn’t see but the thump of a dragon landing shook her even in water and she surfaced, gasping as the Elder dragon was before her, golden eyes locked on her.

She stared as he bowed and dropped three bodies before her making her recoil in the water. She recognized them as forsworn from their ragged skins but without them they were just mangled flesh. She stared at the Elder dragon in a bit of horror and he bowed deeper at her, wings spreading as he did.

“W-What is that?” she asked and he leaned back up.

“Mortals were watching you,” he said and she gaped stared at him. “Their sticks were raised and their eyes full of bloodlust. They were going to attack.”

She could only stare slack-jawed at the dragon. She wasn’t surprised that she was going to be attacked by the forsworn as the bastards never left her alone but she was shocked that the dragon had killed them; that he not only did that but brought their bodies to her as if she was one of his brood or he was trying to impress her. She turned, shielding her naked body from him before she had no choice but to get out of the water.

She did so awkwardly, grabbing her rag to dry herself off before she started tugging on her armor. He watched her, curious, and she found herself flushing.

“Haven’t you seen a naked girl before?” she asked and he looked to her, his head tilting a bit. She sighed. “Never mind. Why are you here?”

He stared at her, breathing out making her turn at the sound and he raised his head up. “You were going to be attacked.”

“Yes,” she said, flushing still. “But what do you care? I’m a mortal. I’m the dragonborn! Why should you care what happens to me, as a dragon, what I kill and absorb?”

“I do not wish… for you to perish,” the dragon rumbled and she flushed even more, her cheeks turning red. She found herself stomping a bit.

“What do you want from me, worm?!”

“I am unsure,” he said, seeming to be embarrassed himself before he launched from the ground, dust flying up making her shield her eyes. He roared something though she did not catch it and he flew off into the mountains surrounding Markarth, going back to his claim, wherever that was. She stood, dumbfounded before hurrying back to the plains of Whiterun after she fully dressed. She almost wanted to go and ask Paarthurnax on what in the heavens was with his kin but she decided not to.

She instead made her way back into Falkreath to her manor by the lake ignoring Marcurio’s quips at her when she stepped inside.

 

\--

 

Over the next few weeks she didn’t encounter the Elder dragon even after she went back to the few spots they met, her curiosity getting the better of her. She relented after a while and visited Paarthurnax to inquire but his response left her frustrated. He had merely stared at her a while before chuckling.

“So, that is how it is.”

“What?” she asked, glaring at him but he said no more. He merely sat upon the word wall reflecting on the differences of their languages until she got tired and left, giving him a leg of a goat before she did which he gratefully took.

Now she was back in the plains of Whiterun, the shadow from Dragonsreach stretching far to the mountains and she heard a roar from above. She paused and looked up, almost hoping to see the bronze dragon but instead she caught the sight of red and black scales shining in the dying sun. An Ancient dragon. She spit a curse and grabbed her bow, diving down into the tangled gold brush, hoping it hadn’t seen her but it did.

It let out a roar of almost triumph, pleased it had spotted a meal and it dove down, the furnace in its belly lighting up as it spewed fire across the plain causing flowers and bramble to ignite and turn into ash. She had dodged it, seeing its line of fire from miles away and as it passed overhead she aimed and let her arrow fly. It stabbed into the back of its tail and the magnificent beast roared and turned sharply.

It let out another rush of fire, her foot nearly catching as she dodged again and she held in her breath as she shot, missing it by inches. The dragon circled, coming back only to bring its body up and it hovered, its wings beating hard as it took aim and shot a blast of fire form its maw. This time she couldn’t dodge it completely and she covered her face as her body got caught in the fire, the heat intense making her shake but her armor saved her from melting. Her blonde hair, unfortunately, was caught and the ends singed a little and she hissed as the dragon took off overhead leaving her no time to try and get a shot in.

She decided to head up into the mountain, to try and use the terrain to her advantage when a roar tore through the air. It wasn’t like the Ancient dragon’s and she looked to see another dragon coming.

“Gods damn it,” she spat, the thought of having to fight two irritating her further when the dragon coming went straight for the one already circling her. The sun shone into her eyes blinding her from seeing clearly but as it came closer she recognized the shape. It was an Elder dragon. Her breath caught in her chest and the giant beast went straight for the more powerful dragon, slamming into it at full force causing the other to roar in shock.

The Elder blasted fire at its superior kin, his claws tearing at his scales and the Ancient dragon shook off its shock and attacked right back, the two circling each other before meeting, a fury of claws and roars echoing against the mountain. She could only stare useless as their fast motions left it impossible for her to aim and provide back up.

It didn’t matter as the Ancient dragon tore at the Elder’s wings causing it to fall and her to shout. The dragon went down, crashing against the ground and the Ancient followed, wanting to finish it off. She pulled out her bow, inhaling before she shot and her arrow flew nearly straight, hitting the red lizard in the neck. It howled but she kept shooting making it fly up and leave the Elder.

Her bronze savior didn’t relent, though, and as soon as it righted itself, blood dripping from its shoulder and wing, it roared and shot fire at the dragon circling. She ran to his side, her chest burning as she looked at him.

“Are you alright?” she cried and he looked to her.

“Shoot your arrows and use your voice!” he snarled at her. “He wants you as his meal, sister kin! And he will not relent until you or he is dead!”

She flushed but listened to his words. She grabbed her arrows, aiming as it circled again and she held her breath as she shot again. She got his wing and the dragon was forced to land, slamming into the ground sending vegetation and dirt into the air. She ran towards the downed beast, shooting arrows as she did and when she got close it reared.

It let out a roar that shot through her bones but it exposed its neck, the pain it was obviously feeling too great. She shot once, cutting into its throat before her last arrow was aimed at its right eye. She held in her breath, time seeming to slow, and she let it fly.

The dragon let out a screech but fell, the ground shaking as it collapsed. It breathed once, blood pouring from its mouth before it stopped and lay still, fire and blood filling the air. She merely stood back, breathing out as she did and once its scales started to melt, the bones collapsing she knew it was dead. She sheathed her bow and instead of going to loot the corpse she turned to run back to the Elder dragon who saved her, the soul of the Ancient dragon following her as she did.

He was up, using his wings to crawl but she met him before he got far, her arms being thrown around his snout making him stop. “You stupid dragon!” she shouted, her face pressing against his warm scales, his hot breath hitting her body. “You could have died!”

His initial shock seemed to lessen and he growled, the reaction making her shake as it ran through her. “So could have you, sister kin. Did you not think of that?”

“I’ve fought dragons before!” she snapped as she looked up, his golden eyes shining under the sun and she found herself staring into them, her grip softening until she was merely leaning against him, their eyes connected. She swallowed. “Why are you here? How did you come to my aid so fast?”

His shoulders rose then sank, a low sigh coming from his body. “I have been watching you, sister kin. From afar.”

She blushed making him tear his eyes away and he pulled up forcing her to let go. His eyes were on the sun, the shadow of Dragonsreach now shifting to become further away and he snorted. “Night will be here soon. It will not be safe in the open.”

“Can you fly?” she asked and he looked down to her before he spread his wings to test. His shoulder seemed to bother him, his scales missing from the cuts but he was able to hover before he set himself back down. She came to his side, reaching back up to touch him and he let her, his eyes on her constantly as she did. She found herself petting his neck feeling his muscles even from beneath his scales. He swallowed and she watched his neck react making her curious and she began running her hands over more of him, coming back up to his head where she looked into his left golden eye.

He continued to watch her, silent and she found herself speaking. “Will you tell me your name?”

He thought about it for a long time before he translated. “Your mortal kind would call me something odd. A serpent soul of the earth.”

“What is your dragon name then?” she said and he breathed out, the brush and flowers near her moving from his breath.

“Vithgolsil.”

“Vithgolsil,” she repeated and she rubbed his cheek, smiling down at him before a howl from the wilds drew her eyes up. “I suppose I should let you go, my savior. I should go back before a pack of wolves come and thinks we’re easy prey.”

“I will take you back,” he said and she looked to him.

“That would be a bad idea,” she said. “If the guards of the city saw you, they will try and kill you.”

He breathed out, thinking. “I will take you to the gate.”

“Again, they will kill you,” she said and he seemed to become annoyed. She found herself smiling before a thought entered her head. “I live in the woods of Falkreath as well. You could take me near there, if you’re so adamant.” He tilted his head and she gave him a warm smile until she realized he was confused based on her direction. “Do you not know Falkreath?”

“I do not understand that word,” he said. “What is a Falkreath?”

“It’s a Hold,” she explained. “South of here, surrounded by mountains and thick green forests.” He relaxed, a low rumble in his throat and she frowned. “What?”

“The Fog Forest. I know it well,” he said and she flushed. Of course. The dragons had their own names for things, they didn’t follow the mortal naming system and he turned to her making her look to him, her fingers still touching his scales. “Where is your nest in the Fog Forest? I will take you there.”

“By the lake,” she said and he lowered his neck.

“Climb upon me, dragon kin, and I will take you,” he said and she obeyed. It was awkward climbing on to him for he was a lot bigger than Odahviing was but when she had settled, her hands gripping his sharp black horns tight she found him more stable as he rose. She leaned down against him, his beating wings filling her head and he took off slow, the wind not catching her hair until he began to rise and fall with the air current, forcing her to shut her eyes.

“Tell me, dragon kin, where to land when you see,” he voice came through the wind but her eyes watered as she looked down and she found herself just waiting until she saw the lake, tightening her grip on him as she did.

“Land near the lake!” she asked. “On the south side!”

When he landed she was nearly thrown off and she yelped but held herself steady. He lowered himself down, giving her a worried look but she reassured him as she slipped off. He raised himself up, scales still shining in the blue twilight sky and she found herself watching him, blushing a bit.

“Vithgolsil,” she said his name and he his eyes moved down to her. “Why did you come help me today? Why are you helping me?” His tail twitched a bit and he began to brood, taking her words in. She found herself growing impatient. “Do you want something from me?”

“I am unsure,” he said quietly and she folded her arms.

“Are you unsure if you want something from me or are you unsure of how I will react at what you truly want from me?” she said and he went back to meeting her eyes, her words still rolling in his head. She pursed her lips. “Do you want me to be yours?”

“I do not understand your questions very well,” he said and she found herself tightening her grip on her arms before she stepped forward, touching his snout again. She leaned down, placing a small kiss between his nostrils and he watched her, curious. She moved, kissing his cheek, the scales hard and cold but she didn’t mind. He pulled back after a minute and his tail twitched further as he stared her down. She said nothing but she waited for his response.

“Mortals do that to each other,” he commented. “What is it?”

She smirked. “A sign of affection,” she said. “Something mortals do you each other when they like each other. Or when they are thanking one another.”

“Like?”

“Yes.”

There was a low grumble in his throat and he looked away before looking back, almost flustered. He leaned down, his snout hitting her making her yelp and a low purr came from his throat making her stop and he rubbed against her as if he was nuzzling her. She felt herself flush before she leaned over and pressed her cheek against him again, imitating.

“That it how we show affection, dragon kin,” he said, his voice running through her bones. “Your tiny licks are odd and more provoking than affectionate.”

She laughed. “Of course a dragon would see a kiss as offensive.”

He breathed out, his breath warm against her and she looked up, their eyes meeting and she found herself blushing as her heart beat a bit faster in her chest. He pulled back leaving her standing awkwardly before he nuzzled her neck, his protruding teeth sliding over her skin and she reached up, touching his jaw.

“I came to you, dragon kin, because I wanted to protect you. You defeated the World Eater and are a leader but your body is tiny and brittle,” he remarked making her flush. “Leaders should not fall before their underlings.”

She found herself looking up to him. “You want to become my underling?”

“The age of a single dragon commanding us all is over,” he rumbled. “I do not wish to serve Paarthurnax. I do not want to brood on mountains for odd mortals. But you, dragon kin, still fight. I wish to fight.”

She rubbed his jaw, her fingers scratching his under his chin making him purr and she rubbed her cheek against him again. “Having another dragon under me?” she mused. “You would come when I call?”

“I would be at your beck and call.”

“Even if I am not fighting?” she asked. “If I… just want to ride on your back or take in some affection?”

“I would be at your beck and call,” he repeated again making her smile. She stepped back, looking into the Elder dragon’s eyes before she nodded. He wasn’t lying and she found her cheeks turning red.

“Then I will shout your name to the sky when I feel like it and I expect you to come,” she said with an almost arrogant air but his respectful bowing made her regret her harshness. She opened her mouth, wanting to apologize but she realized it would be odd. He likely didn’t understand her fully anyways and she dismissed him. “I’m going to return to my home. Thank you for bringing me here, Vithgolsil. It was sweet of you. I will leave you to go back to your roost.” He nodded, pulling back but she stopped him. “But… before you go…”

“Yes, dragon kin?”

“Although nuzzling is a dragon’s affection, kissing is mine. You’ll have to get used to it,” she smirked and he tilted his head at her but said nothing, his wings spreading. She stepped back, allowed him ample room to take flight and he rose into the air, his great wings beating sending small pebbles flying and he took off around the lake, roaring as he did causing some of the deer near the lake to run in fright.

She took off back to her home, the walk not far and she entered through the door on the deck, the smell of a burning fire filling her lungs and she dropped her knapsack as she went to her bed. As if on cue, Marcurio showed up and gave her a look, his arms folded.

“Where were you?” he asked and she flopped down on her bed, smiling.

“Kissing a dragon.”

He stared at her before he rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. Unless this is some sort of riddle. Are you sleeping with some Argonian?”

She smirked. “No. I have been literally kissing a dragon.”

He gave her a judgemental look. “You’re strange.”

“Says the man obsessed with horkers!”

“I jest about them! Not make out with them!” he snapped and she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Horker lover.”

“Dragon slut,” he snapped and she found herself laughing.

“Ivory whore.”

“Scale lover.”

“Fishmonger.”

“That’s a job, not an insult,” he snapped and she merely giggled. “Whatever, I’ll leave you and your lizard lover alone. Just don’t bring him home here for a date. The house can’t accommodate it.”

“Will you get lost already?” she said in a light tone and he left her making her fall back on her bed, thinking about what he said before her thoughts moved to the Elder dragon she now could call. It pleased her to have another dragon in her arsenal as Odahviing was getting grouchy about when she called him when she didn’t want to hire a carriage but she really found herself preoccupied by his affection. The nuzzling and how genuine it had been and it made her smile.

She supposed it was the dragon in her. The men and mer of the land didn’t beckon her as they only saw her as a means to conquer but a dragon wanted to serve her and protect her. She pulled off her armor and kicked out her blankets, curling in her bed. Everyone wanted her to protect them so for a beast of legend to be taken to wanting her safe… it made her cheeks red and her head light.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face. When she woke, she would call him and see how it went from there. She was interested in his roost, how he had been watching her and how well he fought. She found herself giggling like a child, the prospects encouraging and she buried her face in her pillow as she did. 

What if she even came to fall in love with the dragon? She giggled at her silliness but her cheeks remained red and her heart light.

 

\-------


	31. Death March (M!DB Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: The Dragonborn kills everyone they meet. He/she was the one who slaughtered everyone in the village after Alduin showed up. And any person, since then, that they have ever laid eyes upon, they slayed immediately and without hesitation. No how-dee-doo for the Dragonborn, their way of greeting is immediate execution. All living, breathing creatures in Skyrim slowly are hunted to extinction.
> 
> Warning: Endless amount of death and violence!
> 
> I mean, this was my dragonborn that is sadistic and cruel. Who is mentioned in 'Ice' (another fanfic. You can find it in my collection of NPC Pairings) and who killed Rulindil in a horrible fashion. People were really into this prompt and then I filled it and got nothing, ha ha. Ha ha haa.... I half regret writing this now.

There was a certain amount of stupidity to people that he rather liked. He honestly hadn’t cared when he had been caught, rassled with chains and thrown into a cart with some other Nords he couldn’t care much about. His time had to run out at some point and he merely accepted it unlike the sniveling children chained with him.

He laughed when the one was shot down when they made a run for it in Helgen. He thought it was funny. The Stormcloak beside him did not.

He smirked at the headsman chopping off the mouthy Nord’s head too. He’d soon be there in that blood and he figured he might as well go with it. His bonds weren’t too tight but he wasn’t in the mood to start a fight. After all, he wasn’t one of those idiots who thought dying while they went down was the best death. He couldn’t really care.

When his turn came, he walked forward with a grin. He might as well take it with a smile. After all, none of them probably knew who he really was anyway. Cyrodiil really needed to update their troops on the criminals of Tamriel.

Then the dragon came. He honestly didn’t expect that.

So, he was grabbed, taken by the whimpering Nords who had been in his cart, everyone panicking. He saw an opportunity to maybe get free. He tried his bonds but the stupid fools around him were too busy panicking over a worm flying around to fucking free him. That pissed him off.

“Jump! Jump to the house below!” the one Nord said in an utter panic after the dragon had bust into the tower and hilariously burned one of the crying soldiers. He rolled his eyes, doing as he said but the idiot never followed him. He couldn’t even find a damn knife to get the ropes off.

Luckily, another fool came around. He wanted to help him. He didn’t say no. The idiot led him around, driving him towards the Keep. The Nord who had told him to jump before showed up, yelling he was escaping. That made his brows raise. If he could get his stupid bonds off, he was going to do the same. After all, he had heard about Skyrim in Bruma. There was plenty of opportunity for… fun in such a large land.

The Imperial soldier took him into the keep, panicking after they got in and finally, he pulled a dagger. He cut off his ropes.

“You can find some gear in the chests,” the soon to be dead fool had said. “I’ll get the door open.”

“Sure,” was all he replied with a smile. He found some gear and took a moment to choose a weapon. He wanted one that wouldn’t break so easily and after some deliberation, he picked up a sword. He always did like being close to his prey.

The Imperial soldier was pulling the chain when he came up behind him. He didn’t use his weapon – not yet, that was for later - and instead he grabbed him by the neck. One quick snap and the man was in Aetherius. He let his body fall to the ground and went through the door, smiling as he did. His fingers were itching now. That kill had been too easy.

He saw the blond Nord in a round pen, leaning over a body when he yanked on the chain to open it. The man immediately stood, frowning at him when he entered.

“So, you’re helping the Imperials?” he said. “That’s a pity. You look liked a true son of Skyrim.”

He only laughed. How did he want to go about this? He saw a warhammer leaning against the wall and he shrugged, moving to pick it up. The blond Nord pulled out his sword with a sad look.

“I hate to do this to a fellow kin…” he said. “But you leave me no choice.”

“I am not your kin,” he finally responded. “And I don’t give a damn about the Imperials.”

The man frowned deeply. “Then why did you follow them? Why are you wearing their gear?”

He chuckled, holding the heavy weapon in his hands and he looked to the Nord. This would be fun.

“Wear the gear of your enemies to get close to them,” he said. The man almost seemed to look to him in respect. “That way when you kill them, you can see the whites of their eyes.”

“…Right…” The Nord said, unsure if he should sheathe his blade and when he was about to, he chuckled again.

“I wouldn’t,” he said making him pause. “You’re going to need it.”

The Nord continued to look confused. This was why he had no strong feelings for his race. Smarter men would run. This fool did not. So, he decided to show him the mistake he made.

His ribs shattering made him laugh in joy.

It didn’t take long to crush the man’s soul from his body, blood spattering on the walls and he threw the warhammer down next to the mangled man. Well, that was a fun distraction. He pulled out his sword, rolling it in his hands, before he moved to enter the hallway. Only one way but down.

He met other soldiers, each of them stupider than the last. He cut through them easily like hot butter through a knife, their blood running down his arms. There was a torture room that made his eyes light up but the dumb fools running it had no good tools. He cracked the old man’s skull on a pillar and his assistant went down screaming in the caged bar. It was almost too easy.

He started to whistle the further down he went. A jovial tune, one a lass in Bruma used to sing before he wrung her neck.

The rest of the soldiers were almost laughably weak. He didn’t leave a single one alive, their bodies and limbs being scattered all over the crumbling keep. He left by a cave where a bear had seen him and tried to fight. Stupid old sow had its neck cut before it could clench down on him and he let the beast bleed out. It deserved no less. He left the pelt. He left the dead spiders too. All he knew was he could smell fresh air and he waltzed out of the cave into sweet freedom around him. He let out a smile and from behind, the dragon that had been attacking roared. It rose from the ash and fire, taking off towards the mountains and he watched it, saluting to it as he did.

“Thanks, worm,” he said with a smile. “You have no idea what you unleashed.”

He began to walk down the path. He hoped he came across a village soon.

 

He saw a lake in the distance and went towards it. After all, lakes usually held towns. But instead of a village, he came across some bandits who looked shocked to see someone come up from behind them.

“You’re dead!” one of them had said. He laughed. What pitiful fools.

He left their bodies in a pile on the fire, whistling as he walked down the path, now covered in blood.

He met a hunter. The man bid him good morning with his horse. He crushed his skull and the damn horse took off. No matter. If he found it again, it would be dead. He continued on his way, blood beginning to drip off the end of his sword.

The path split in two directions which made him frown. He wasn’t sure which way to go. He looked to the south and the path went down before it disappeared in dark trees. To the west, he could see smoke. He went to the smoke, hoping it was a town.

Instead, he found a mill making him frown. What good were mills? Though he spotted a woman working it making him raise his brow. He approached her and she turned to greet him.

“Oh, a guest?” she said in a sultry voice. He smirked. “What can I do for you?”

He ran his blade through her neck, cutting her head off completely. Her body fell and he kicked it towards the saw blade. She could die, was what she could do. He looked around the mill, not seeing anything of interest and he decided to go into their home.

A man met him inside, his eyes wary. “Can I help you?”

He swung but he didn’t hit the man clean. He struck him but only enough to stagger him. That was when they revealed what they were. He laughed. A vampire! He hadn’t ever seen one before and he took pleasure in killing the monster over his own fire, shoving him head first when he got him down. He watched the body burn, wondering if it would turn to ash right away but it didn’t. He was disappointed at the result.

Still, it wasn’t a total loss. He found some gold, got a dagger, and he ate the food that the vampire had been preparing. He wondered if the girl he killed was a vampire as well but it didn’t matter. He put his feet up on the table, chewing on a chunk of venison, the meat flavourful making juices run down his chin.

When he was done, he decided to torch the place. The mill burned well but the stone house didn’t but that wasn’t surprising. He left with a forest fire beginning to catch behind him, taking the road to the south.

From the hill, he saw the peaks of houses. It was a town. He let out a laugh.

“Here I come,” he said with a wicked smile and he began to make the trek down. He hoped there were a lot of people within.

 

Now, he wasn’t stupid. You don’t just walk up in a town and start killing everyone. You need to go from house to house. He started with the trading shack, a blond Nord greeting him within.

“Welcome to Gray Pine Goods,” he said. “If you need anything, give a holler. I’ll come running to your side.”

That made him laugh. He wasn’t going to be the one hollering and he swiftly pulled out his blade, moving behind the counter to cut the defenseless merchant down. He stabbed him in the heart making the man gasp before he sliced off his head. Then he checked his pockets. He honestly expected more from a merchant but what was he going to do.

The next was the Blacksmith, but the man was outside. He’d come back later. He found a house to the right of it, a Redguard woman inside. She had her back to him.

“Oh, a customer? Give me a moment and I’ll get right to helping you.”

He pulled out his dagger, aimed, and threw it at her back. She screamed when it stabbed into her shoulder, jerking, and he moved in for a proper kill, covering her mouth as he slit her throat. She collapsed and he kicked her over, taking his dagger back as she began to bleed from her neck, her eyes glazing over. 

He helped himself to some potions. None looked very good but he had to make due. He ended up taking her knapsack, emptying the contents out on the floor so he could fill it with what he wanted. He went next to the grand structure in the center.

Three people were within. He raised his brow, thinking about how to do this. An elven woman approached him, giving him a polite look.

“Welcome to the Falkreath Court,” she said. “Can we help you?”

He looked her over. Elves. She probably would hit him with magic, wouldn’t she? He decided to go to the one in the back sitting on some sort of throne. Was he a Count like in Cyrodiil? He didn’t have many guards around him making him doubt it.

As he walked, he saw a man from the side. There was four people. And the one in the other room looked heavily armed. He could be fun to fight.

The Nord sitting on the throne raised his brow. “Do you want something?”

He looked at him. He had a dagger at his side. He could do him last since he obviously didn’t have anything better to fight with. So, he went to what he assumed was his guard. The man frowned at him and he looked him over. He liked that armor.

So, he ran him through making the woman scream. The guard was so shocked, it was almost too easy to let him fall and crush his skull under his boot.

“W-What the fuck!” the Nord on the throne was up and the armored man in the other room was grabbing his sword. He went to quickly deal with the defenseless one, deciding not to save him for last since he looked too much like someone who would squeal. The fool ran. He caught him by the fireplace, grabbing him by the crown to cut off his head.

“Siddgeir!” the elven woman screamed as he did so, blood spilling out onto the floor in almost a wave and he looked to her. She went for the door and he frowned. Couldn’t let her get out. He dropped the head, rushing towards her and his armored opponent came at him but he dodged it.

She almost got the door open before he attacked her, just going for her neck. Quickest way to deal with runners. She collapsed with her hand almost on the handle.

“You bastard!” the last man yelled and he turned to spar him, knocking back his blade. He was aiming to kill making him smirk, loving the challenge. He went for the stairs, his armor light so he could get up them quick and the stupid man fell for his trap. He turned at the top and plunged his blade down in the space of the man’s armor by his collar, cutting his neck making him shout.

It was simple to dispose of him after. He let the body fall back to the stone floor, his head rolling off under a bench before he sheathed his blade. His eyes went to look at his handiwork, blood beginning to pool around the bodies and he whistled as he decided to look in the rooms.

He got some more gold, found a bottle of mead he decided to try before he threw it down in disgust at the taste. Didn’t any of them have any culture? The mead was awful. 

Not letting it distract him, he went to get his new armor. Blood was beginning to soak into it but that wasn’t a problem. It fit loose around his chest but everything else was fine and he smirked. Not bad.

He kicked the dead elf away from the door, moving to leave, still whistling as he did. The guards of the town were still milling around and he smirked, walking to the next house. They didn’t notice his new armor or the blood and he shook his head. The Nords of Skyrim were so stupid.

No one was in the farmhouse but he found a girl in the one next to it. He stabbed her twenty times with his dagger making her scream but she expired rather quick. He found a pretty necklace on her and he took it, stuffing it into his pocket.

He was about to leave when the door opened, a man wearing rather rich robes walking in. “Tekla, I need-” he paused when he saw him. His eyes then went to behind him at the dead woman sprawled on the floor. He wasted no time in grabbing the old man and throwing him down, having to resort to stomping on him. Old coot wouldn’t go down. He grabbed his sword and made sure he finally did.

He didn’t even have any money on him. For such rich robes, he should have been loaded.

There was a temple type of building below and he entered it, seeing an old elf praying before a shrine to Arkay. He went up behind him and cut his head clean off. So much for Arkay’s protection.

He was going to leave back up to the town when he spotted some Nord wandering around the graves. Only fit he should die among them. He went behind him, the Nord not noticing as he pulled some weeds from beside a headstone and he strangled him, snapping his neck halfway through. His body fell beside the grave and he left it there. The guard coming down the way didn’t notice and he frowned. Were they so dense?

He tapped the guard on the shoulder making him turn and he pulled out his dagger, slamming it into the man’s heart. They let out a shocked gasp, slumping forward and he caught them. He dragged them to the graves and threw him down, letting him die there, the body twitching as it tried to hang on to life with one final grip. 

He suddenly got a grand idea, watching the guard finally slump back. He was going to fill the graveyard with the bodies of the town.

He started to get to work, finding that the house he went to before was empty due to a farmer and his wife working outside. He watched them for a moment, both having their backs to each other and he grinned.

He snapped the woman’s neck first. Then he went up behind the sullen man. He grabbed him making him tense. “W-Who-?”

He made a quick motion with his hands and his head soon turned almost completely around, his eyes becoming lifeless. He picked up his body, throwing him to the graveyard below and he grabbed his wife to have her join him.

He then heard a log fall on the mill. Well, that wouldn’t take too long. The blond Nord seemed happy to see him making him smile. “Well met, Kin!” he had said and he had laughed. People were so stupid.

He shoved his head down on the saw blade. Effective, but the screams alerted the guards. Now he had a real fight on his hands, panic starting to erupt when a guard came from the Longhouse.

“T-The Jarl! The Jarl’s dead!” he shouted. “The Jarl’s been murdered!”

Well, someone was bound to find out sooner or later. He laughed as they came at him while he stood on the mill, him with the advantage again as he stood above. Their purple clothes soon turned nearly black from their blood, his sword cutting through them until it broke. He then picked up one of their swords, hacking away. He was going to have to find a good blade soon. That blacksmith should have one. He needed to find and kill him next.

Fool was still near his forge, though he drew a sword when he approached, now on alert. He merely staggered her him and kicked him back into the flames making the man scream in agony, his body being burned. He tried to get out and he lopped off his head, silencing him fast. His focus then went on the weapons he had forged. The sword he had wasn’t too bad, it was made out of orchish ore and was nice and jagged but it was still not too great. He still took it, moving to fight some of the other guards who came from the gate that had led out of the town, the screams having alerted them.

He left them where they lay, one of them limbless. Now, patrons from the Inn were coming out, one of the women screaming when she saw him.

“Run, Narri!”

“But Tekla!” she said, turning to a man behind. “I need to find Tekla!”

“Run!” the old man shouted and tears fell from her eyes. “We’ll get her later, just run, Narri!”

She took the steps and he smiled. Oh no, he wasn’t having another runner. The old man came at him but he ignored his lunge, running towards the girl. She turned back, seeing him advancing and she screamed, running faster. He grabbed her by her hair, kicking her down and her head came off clean, her body hitting the stones just outside the gate of the town.

“Y-You bastard!” the old man yelled. He threw her head at him making him stumble in shock. He went down just as quick, his head rolling off with a single swing.

He heard another scream, a Redguard woman seeing and he went at her but she ran back, slamming the door to the Inn. He put his shoulder against it, laughing, though he was getting out of breath.

“You can’t hide!” he said.

“You monster!” the voice came back. “Delacourt! Block the door!”

Well, that was stupid of them. He kicked the door until he got tired of it before he fetched the axe by the side of the building. The wooden door splintered as he swung it, knocking in a hole.

“Valga!” a man yelled as the woman started screaming. “Get away from the door!”

“Back, you monster!” she yelled and something hit the door making him laugh. She had thrown a kettle. As if that would stop him.

“Go escape from the window!” the man yelled. “I’ll hold him off.”

“I’m not leaving you, Delacourt!”

“Valga, you need to run!” he shouted and he merely swung the axe, splintering the door more, knocking it slightly off its hinge. He aimed for the hinges, chopping at the wood so it would break and the door cracked, falling forward. He grabbed it, putting his hand through the hold he made to pull the door out and he broke into the Inn, smiling as he did. There was a table propped on the door and a man holding a mace inside, looking scared but defiant. He kicked the table aside making the man jerk in shock at his strength.

“Not very nice to block patrons from coming in,” he joked. The man did not laugh. He thought it was funny and he continued to chuckle at his own joke, even as the boy came at him. He grabbed his wrist, snapping it making the man shout and he took the mace to beat him to death with it.

All that was left was that screaming woman and he found her in a room, almost out a broken window.

He grabbed her ankle. “No!” she screamed. “Help! Guards!”

“All dead!” he laughed, yanking her back and she clawed, screaming as loud as she could. He forced her back into the inn, catching her as she tried to run and he grabbed her neck, forcing her windpipe to close, cutting off her screaming. She thrashed, kicking and clawing, her entire body fighting him until she couldn’t any more.

He held on until he was sure she was dead. Then he let her drop, shaking his hands out after. 

They were all dead. Not bad for his first day.

He smiled, brushing off his arms and he went to walk out, checking all the doors. Bodies lay strewn all over and the sky rumbled, a storm moving in. He smirked and went to start with his plan, collecting bodies and heads to toss into the graveyard. He took the priest and strung him up by the temple door. Arkay could preserve them now.

The sky was turning dark now, rain beginning to fall and he raided the houses, finding some good items tucked away in drawers before he finally had to leave. He was getting tired and he stretched at the gate, the silent town behind him.

“I’m getting old,” he complained when his bones popped before he shouldered his pack, leaving with a new weapon and a bundle of potions with gold. He took the road he came on, cutting into the woods when he saw the fire he had started above spreading to the east and he watched as animals fled from it, running towards him.

He chased down a deer, slamming his sword into its haunch and he hacked off its head for fun, leaving it after since he wasn’t in the mood to eat. He continued on, the forest turning thick and he was about to go find a place to nod off when he came across a hunter, her small camp just what he needed.

“Oh, hello,” she said in surprise. “Nasty storm rolling in, isn’t it?”

He cut her through her stomach, her screams not heard by anyone in the dark. He threw her body off to the side, looking into the pot she had been using and he took her meal, settling down on her bedroll.

She had a bow and arrow set. He took it with a grin. Might come in handy, shooting people from a distance. He actually didn’t know where he was going but he knew wherever it was, he’d be killing again.

He settled in for the night, his arms worn and his stomach full. Really, if he met that dragon again he would have to thank them before he killed it. He never dreamed he could get away with slaughtering people so easily in Skyrim. In Cyrodiil it had been such a chore since people were still on edge from the Great War. But with this civil war going on, no one here seemed fazed by a man approaching with his weapon drawn. It was just so easy and he chuckled, sinking in against the furs below.

He fell asleep to the sound of rain on the tent above, not even the thunder waking him as it rumbled throughout the mountain valleys. The rain was thick, pouring down on every rock and tree, draining any blood that had been spilled on the stones making what he did almost invisible to the eye.

When he woke, the air was foggy and distant birds chirped in the trees, out now that the rain had passed. He stretched, taking a piss by an old spruce tree and he ignored the dead girl near the tent, her eyes now glassy and her body soaked. He was off once again, aiming for the break in the trees. Maybe he could find another town to have fun in. Maybe he’d find a city. Wouldn’t that be a nice challenge?

He left, whistling as he did, about a young girl lifting her skirts for the wrong type of man. He chuckled halfway through, recalling the Redguard woman he had to strangle. She had been pretty. He should have had fun with her before he let her die.

“Next time,” he said to himself. “You find a pretty lass, you can have fun.”

He began whistling again not long after. He soon saw open plains and he smiled. That was where he needed to go.

 

He saw a distant town on the plains, to the northwest where the hills were beginning to get jagged. He shouldered his pack again, making towards it and as he did, he met a man with a wide smile.

“Hello, traveller!” they said. “Fancy to hear a song on this beautiful morning?”

A bard? Oh, he loved bards. He pulled out his sword, swinging it for a moment. “Sure,” he said. “What do you play?”

“The lute,” the bard replied. “But if you want, I can sing or pull out a flute for some lighter music.”

“What about plucking something made from gut?” he said and the bard frowned a bit. “Your guts?”

“I beg your pardon?”

He sliced his stomach open to see the instruments he had inside. He had to really hack at the man to bring him down, the bard an unexpected magic user and more resilient than he looked. But he fell, like they all did, and he smiled, pulling his insides out.

“Poor instruments you have in you,” he said, throwing his body off to the side. “Next time, get a better one.”

With that, he began to walk towards the town surrounded by bare hills.

 

\-------

 

The place was called Rorikstead. He only knew that because the guard who met him when he walked in told him so.

“Boring little place,” the guard had commented. “But you get used to it.”

He smiled at the man’s naivety. It wouldn’t be boring for long. He walked past two farms, another Inn by the side, and he decided to start with the house nearest to the path leading away. He entered the manor, not even caring when the two occupants inside looked up in shock.

“Oh, hello,” one of them said, getting out of his chair. “If you’re looking for the Inn, it’s down the road a bit. This is a private home.”

He brought out his sword. He was looking for no Inn. He moved fast, stabbing right through the richly dressed man making him let out a death gasp, his eyes widening and the other old man got up immediately. He brought out flames; that was interesting as he didn’t peg him for a mage.

Still, what could a mage do against him? Always they stupidly believed their little tricks with magic would save them. He merely went and grabbed an old shield, blocking himself from the flames until the fool’s reserves ran out. It was simple to catch him and stab him right through his spine, severing it.

“Gods!” the man pleaded and he ended him by smashing his skull against the fireplace. He tossed away the burned shield, wiping down his blade before he picked up an apple and bit into it. Food wasn’t too bad. He ate a decent breakfast from whatever scraps were lying about, taking his time, before he went back to go tackle the other places now that he was sated.

The farmers were all outside making his life difficult and he watched two girls run by. One stopped by him.

“Hey, mister,” she said in a quiet tone and he stopped. “You know… if you beat up my sister, I won’t tell anyone.”

He smiled at the girl. He was going to do more than beat her up and the girl smiled back before she ran off. They might be a problem later, depending on how hard they were to catch but children usually got tired and were easily broken after. They weren’t much of an issue.

He entered the Inn, surprised to see it mostly empty. There was only one man at the counter, the chairs and tables empty and he walked up to him, ignoring the strange look he got.

The Innkeeper frowned. “Customers aren’t allowed behind the bar,” he started. “If you need a room-”

It was the last words he said as he sliced through his throat and ended him by plunging his sword in his collar, bringing the fool to his knees before him. His head went off and the body went down, blood spilling against the stones. He picked through the wine bottles behind the counter but none looked good. He did find a bag of coins tucked behind a few though which he pocketed.

He was moving to leave when the door opened and a young man walked in.

“Father!” he called, looking to the counter which no one stood behind. He brought out his sword. “Father, can I…?”

His eyes caught sight of him and he began to frown, looking to the counter before back at him. He looked down at himself. Oh, seems some blood had spilled on his clothes. He grinned and the boy stepped back.

“What did you do to my father?” he said in a scared tone. He merely played with his sword, tipping it back and forth, blood still shining on the ragged ends.

“Same thing I’m going to do to you,” he replied. The boy ran. He gave chase but the kid was outside fast, shouting as he jumped off the stairs of the inn.

“Guards!” he shouted. “Guards, there’s a murderer here! He killed my father!”

The farmers tilling paused, and a few of the guards looked to him. He grinned, chasing after the boy still and they came at him making him stop. Fine, he’d kill them first.

Off went one head and the other went down when they lost an arm. He heard a girl scream, panic starting to set in but he wasn’t too worried.

“Sissel! Britte! Run!” the farm boy shouted, grabbing a hoe before he started to go towards the path that led towards the bare hills. Well, he wasn’t running up there. What did he look like, a deer? He pulled out the bow he had. Might as well use it.

He got the kid in his back on his first shot, the second missing, but the third hit his leg sending him down. He waltzed up to him where he crawled, grabbing him by the hair and while the boy screamed and pleaded, he ended his life. So much for that.

The farmers were beginning to run and a guard came from out of nowhere, running at him with a battleaxe. He swung and missed and he cut the man from the back of his throat down, letting them bleed out as he went to take care of the rest.

“Ennis!” an elven woman cried as she tried to run, hiking up her skirt. He shot her down, moving to finish her when she was crawling on the dirt and what he supposed was her husband came and attacked, the rake hitting his shoulder hard but it wasn’t too painful.

“Don’t you dare touch my wife!” the puny man yelled. He laughed. He grabbed the rake, ripping it from the idiot’s hands before he chopped his legs.

“Ennis!” the woman was screaming, grabbing at his armor but she couldn’t stop him. He sent her husband’s head flying, kicking his body back before he turned on her. She screamed, trying to fight him, her magic useless when he broke her wrists. He grabbed her throat and squeezed, her fingernails digging deep into his skin but it was worth it to see the light die in her eyes.

He threw her body back when he was done, grabbing their goat and killing it to go with the pair, chickens running all over the farm now clucking.

“Daddy!” he heard a distant voice yell and he sighed. Right, there was still three more to go. He broke a chicken’s neck as he went past, moving to the cow by the Inn which was braying, distressed. Cows were stupid. He went up to the beast and slit it’s throat, the thing dropping down where it had been and he jumped the fence, continuing on his path. He saw the last man trying to run, two girls standing on a hill waiting and he brought out his bow.

He missed making them all panic and he aimed again, focusing hard before he let his arrow fly.

“Daddy!” one of the girls screamed when the arrow struck him in the throat and the man staggered before he went down. One of the children ran towards his body. “Daddy! Daddy!”

“Britte!” the other yelled, her eyes catching him, and she turned to run, heading to the east. Her stupid sister was closer so he went for her first making the girl scream, tears flowing from her eyes. She ran to the west, trying to clamber up the hill but he had more stamina and he caught her easily.

“Let go!” she sobbed. He dragged her to a rock. “Please! Don’t hurt me!”

He laughed. Earlier she had wanted violence. Now she didn’t. This was why he never like children and he ended her on the rock. He left her there, turning back to see the road once again. Now he just had to go find that other sister of hers. Tracking her shouldn’t be too hard. After all, children didn’t run very far.

Before he did, he noticed a shack up in the hill, almost hidden from view. He smirked, deciding to have one more bit of fun before he gave the other child the day of her life and he found it infested with skeevers. The damn things came at him, trying to bite but he kicked them and sliced through their bodies, using one of them to beat another off, the beasts fleeing after they realized they were no match.

Inside there were two other skeevers he quickly too care of, ripping off the tail of one. Their corpses were tossed in a corner and he wiped down his hand before he went to the man lying on the bed.

Damn fool was dead. He sighed, disappointed. Well, he might as well get back to it.

He left but not before lighting the place on fire, throwing a torch onto the top of the straw roof. Let the place burn. The hills around it looked like they catch a good fire as well and he made his way down to where the girl had ran. He spotted child-sized footprints in the dirt and he followed them, whistling as he did. If he knew kids, they would find a place to go and hide. She’d most likely be somewhere along the rocks where she thought he wouldn’t be able to get her.

He chuckled. No one could escape him. That was the entire reason of his notoriety. He began climbing up a rocky slope, whistling when he could in case it scared her out of the rocks. On the top of the plateau he saw the town of Rorikstead again and large broken pillars. He grinned. A perfect place for a child to hide. 

He drew his sword, carefully walking to the pillar and he expected to see the little twit behind them but instead he found a shrine. The image of Akatosh sat, a book and gold scattered at the base and he rolled his eyes, sheathing his sword. The shrine wasn’t too heavy and he grabbed it, dragging it away from the pillars to let it drop to the road below, smiling when he saw it smash. The gods were no longer welcome in this land. It was his.

He went back towards the town of Rorikstead, looking out to the plains and a movement caught his eye. It was the girl. She was running to the north.

“There you are,” he smirked, pulling out his bow. He aimed but he was too far behind and he sighed, clipping it to his back as he began to follow her. He saw her look over her shoulder as she ran and he laughed when he heard a scream, her legs becoming frantic.

“You can’t outrun me!” he shouted, picking up his pace. She hit a creek, running beside it and he smirked, pulling out his bow as he chased. He aimed at her as she slowed down, trying to navigate the rocks and he shot. The arrow just missed her and she screamed, falling into the creek but she got herself up, scrambling to get further away from him. He took out another arrow.

“You might as well give up!” he laughed. “You’ll be with your sister and father soon in death!”

She still continued to run away, jumping down the rocks. They were getting steeper as the waterfall went and he took his time while she jumped about. She nearly fell down one of the cliffs making her scream and he went towards her, almost grabbing her but she let go, catching herself on another rock.

“You will not survive,” he mocked her. Her frightened eyes looked up, her face pale and he grinned down at her. She turned and jumped down more rocks, not looking back and he followed from above, almost catching her again when the rocks sloped down but she evaded him. He ran towards another set of falls across a small plain, picking up her pace as she did and he drew his bow.

He missed again making him frown. She began running in strange patterns, leaping over rocks and he sheathed his bow once more to chase her. 

“Run, little rabbit!” he mocked and she jumped into a swift running river, nearly being swept away but she managed to hit the other side, pulling herself out. He could see she was getting exhausted and he grinned, taking out his bow but she moved before he got a shot. She ducked behind some rocks and he smirked. She was probably now completely worn out. He had his chance and he moved to cross the river.

It didn’t affect him much though the current was strong. He took his time, wading carefully and he easily got to the other side, shaking the water from his boots as he did.

She was behind the rock as he figured, breathing hard, tears in her eyes and he smirked. She jerked her head, their eyes meeting and he tilted his head.

“Hello, rabbit.”

She bolted faster than he could grab her. Her damn tiny legs carried her swiftly, her aim another river that led to a waterfall and he gave chase until she entered the water, the current sweeping her down making her scream, her small hands grabbing at the slippery rocks. He watched, taking out his bow as he did and she relentlessly screamed, water filling her lungs causing her to cough. She caught herself before she went over the falls, holding tight to the rock that had saved her and he smiled as he grabbed an arrow.

He aimed. She shook, her body trembling against the current as if she was a leaf. He had a perfect shot to go right through her eye.

She let go and he paused. He watched her disappear over the falls, not a sound to be heard and he frowned, putting his bow back. He climbed on top of the nearby rocks to look down, only seeing churning water beneath but there was a small wooden shack at the base making him raise a brow.

Well, he’d go down and see if he could find her body. He sort of wanted to see the little girl’s dead face before he moved on. The shack did give him another reason as well as he could see someone moving below. He had to turn back, scouting for a path and he could see in the distance there was the long road he had been on before. He went to re-join it.

Much to his amusement, there was some sort of crude fort on the other side of where the rivers joined, potential prey lurking within. He decided to go to the shack first then loop back.

There was a woman at the place cleaning mudcrabs. He frowned deeply at the sight. “Afternoon,” she said, putting aside two large claws. “Are you here to purchase some fine crab meat?”

He took her knife from her making her protest and he stabbed her until the river ran red, her body sinking in the shallows. He tossed the thing away after, dumping her mudcrab meat beside her in disgust and he began to look for the body of the child. The current, though not as powerful as it was up at the crest of the waterfall, still was enough that he finally resigned she was swept off. No one could have survived that and he sighed. Too bad. At least she was the last.

He went towards the crude fort as he wanted to before, bringing his sword to the ready. It was full of bandits, he found, making him smile. Stupid people with stupid ambitions. He made short work of them, sending them scrambling as he ripped off one of the archer’s heads in front of the Chief.

“W-What sort of monster are you?” the man had yelled and he let the body drop, grinning as he did, his clothes becoming soaked. He pulled out his sword and charged, being deflected once but his swing was true on the second try. The bandit chief joined his dead men, the pile of them growing bigger until he was certain they had all been taken care of.

He picked up more arrows, pocketed a nice amount of gold and a few potions and he burned the pile of bodies, smirking as their flesh began to melt. The road continued winding on to the north and he followed it, determined to find another town or at least a city. He was getting a bit tired and wanted to retire for the night somewhere. Preferably on the best bed in town which he would surely get.

Down the road he came across a dead horse and woman, their cart overturned. He frowned, kicking the dead woman aside. She had deep claw marks in her skin and he took a moment to see if he could find the animal responsible but it had to have been long gone.

He took her knapsack, raiding her body as well and he dropped her down when he was done, continuing on. The path split and he chose to go north, trusting his instincts. They turned out to be good when he spotted a village across a large stone bridge. He wasted no time crossing it, heading to the building right beside the mill.

There was a single man inside who gave him a look of disdain. “This place ain’t for travelers or refugees,” he said. “I suggest you leave now.”

He didn’t. In fact, he decided to show the kind man what exactly he was there for. He cracked his skull on the table before he held him down in the fireplace, his screams and struggling making him smirk a bit. He left him where he lay dead, exiting after he grabbed a loaf of bread. There was a large bed there but it was basically on planks. He wasn’t sleeping on that.

He left, moving up towards an inn when he checked the building that ran almost parallel to it. It had large flags outside, the symbol of the imperial empire adorning a black back and he frowned. He recognized it but he really couldn’t recall from where. He’d hit it next if the Inn wasn’t up to standard.

There were two women inside, one pretty young lass and one who looked like she had seen better days.

“Welcome to the Four Shields,” the pretty one said. “Oh, my. You look like you’ve been through quite an adventure.”

He grinned. He had. He walked towards her, pulling out his sword and she seemed impressed until he grabbed her neck making her turn white. She tried to pry him off and he moved to slam her against a pillar. Yes, she was very pretty, just like that Redguard had been. She’d do to slick his lust before she died.

“Julienne!” the woman screamed, moving from behind the counter and he expected her to come at him but she ran to the door, ripping it open. Oh, here we go, he sighed. “Guards! Guards, help! We’re being attacked!”

He rolled his eyes, letting go of the girl for a second making her collapse, gasping for air and he turned on the innkeeper who glared at him. She looked out the door. “Commander Maro! Help!”

He frowned at the name. That sounded familiar. Well, didn’t matter and he went to go strike down the stupid woman before he faced whatever guards came, not really fazed when the sounds of soldiers running made him look up.

He recognized their armor. Oh. Oh… now he remembered. He couldn’t help but grin as the funneled in, swords at the ready, their black armor with the symbol of the Empire shining on the front. Behind them came the man himself, the Commander of the troops and he laughed when he saw him. Maro stared in slight shock.

“You,” he said and he smiled.

“Yes. Me.”

“Sir?” one of the guards said and the Commander steeled himself.

“Capture him!” he told his men. “Alive!”

He laughed at that. “You think they’ll all survive against me?” he mocked and he dodged the first strike. He actually couldn’t believe his luck. Out of everywhere he went he walked into the town that had the Penitus Oculatus? Must have been because he knocked over that shrine. The Emperor’s guards would never be so far away from him.

Unless the Emperor was in Skyrim. He wondered if that was the case. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the soldiers moved to overwhelm him, the girl he had hit against the pillar before being picked up by one of them to be taken out. He simply hacked as he always did, his strokes not breaking the tough armor of the Oculatus but he did manage to knock one of the soldier’s heads almost off. The man dropped, his neck being held by a thread and one of the others went mad at the sight, stabbing him in the side.

He had to compliment the man. Very seldom did he let himself get hit. It didn’t matter as he grabbed them, ripping off their helmet while the other soldiers tried to restrain him and he gouged the soldier’s eyes out. He supposed that was a good enough revenge.

He was beaten with the blunt end of a sword until he finally caved, dropping down onto his knees on the floor. Chains were brought out, one being looped around his neck and even though blood was starting to run down his face, his vision becoming blurry, he still smiled.

“You missed me, Maro,” he said before he gave in and the Commander only looked at him with disgust.

“Haul him outside,” he commanded. “We’re taking him to Solitude to see the Queen.”

He grinned before he passed out.

 

He was locked in a dungeon. That wasn’t surprising. He had seen many dungeons before, in both the Imperial City and other parts. But this one was a bit different. He wasn’t shackled to the wall but he wasn’t allowed to wander around his cell freely either as they had chained his hands and neck to rings on the wall. He tested them to see if they could break but the things were made of sturdier metal than the brittle iron or steel he usually saw. He chuckled at the realization. Maybe they were getting smarter.

He wasn’t given any meals. In fact, he didn’t see anyone save for a man wandering around above the cells sometimes, a big axe strapped to his back. Far from him he sometimes heard a woman complaining. She talked about the Stormcloaks, how the Empire would fall, and a number of curses. He wished he was closer to her cell. That way he could have coaxed her maybe to get close to him so he could rip out her windpipe. Her voice was amazingly irritating.

Despite it, he lazed in his cell, not caring which way things were going to go. He wondered if he would get executed this time. Honestly, they had two opportunities now and they blew it, they might as well try to get it right one last time otherwise he wasn’t going to let himself get caught again.

After a few days passed, the doors of the dungeon upstairs opened as he was whistling a tune, footsteps sounding on the stones. He saw soldiers march followed by someone in a cloak and he waited, wondering if the cell next to him was going to be preoccupied. Instead, the soldiers marched to his cell, dispersing in a line to reveal a woman wearing a long coat and men behind her. He recognized the one. He was the same man at his execution at Helgen who stupidly let him go. It made him grin.

The other was some red-haired Nord that looked like he dined far too often on rich food. He never liked nobles. Unless their throats were slit and their fair blood was running down the street.

The woman approached his cell, her eyes studying him and he smiled at her. She pursed her lips. “So, you’re the man who slaughtered the people of Rorikstead and Falkreath?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

She narrowed her eyes before looking back to the two men. The nobleman sighed, turning to leave for a moment before he came back, holding a little girl’s hand. He recognized her immediately and when she caught sight of him, she began to shake.

“It’s alright,” the red-haired Nord assured her. “He can’t get you.”

“I-It’s him!” she said, tears beginning to well at the corner of her eyes. He looked her over, noticing her arm was in a sling, bruises on her cheek and lip and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“So, little rabbit,” he sang. “You think you got away?” He moved to stand and the girl screamed making the guards pull out their swords, aiming them at him through the bars.

“Sit down!” one snapped and he smirked.

“Come in here and make me.”

“Soldiers, stand down,” the General said, brushing past the cloaked woman to look at him. He smiled brightly back, waiting. “You monstrous prick.”

He chuckled. If that was their best insult, they could keep it coming. He didn’t care. The red-haired Nord reassured the little girl, holding her back further. She finally spoke again.

“H-He killed Daddy. He killed Erik too. I just ran. I jumped over the falls. He came down to try and find me and I-I… I…”

“It’s alright, you did good,” he said, leading her away. “Come, we’ll take you back to Bryling’s. He won’t ever hurt you, I promise.”

He smiled at the Nord’s words and he looked to the woman who was staring at him with a slightly disturbed look. He raised his brows. “Bars can’t hold me forever.”

She ruffled a bit at his words.

“So, are you going to kill me or what?” he said. She looked to the General who kept his displeased expression on his face. They didn’t say anything for a time making him roll his eyes, moving to sit back down.

“You killed an Imperial Jarl,” the General finally said. “Not to mention how many innocent men and women. And a child, no less.”

“I like to be thorough,” he smirked. They didn’t laugh.

“General Tullius,” the woman said in a shaking voice. “Just kill him now.”

“No,” he said. “Don’t be stupid. Commander Maro had specific instructions.”

“Oh, he did?” he perked up making them both glare at him. “Am I going back to Cyrodiil? Does he want me to answer for the things I did there? To that lass in Bruma? To the townspeople of Hackdirt? Or will he want to try me here. Even though one of your own soldiers thought I was innocent and gave a pardon.”

The General reacted. “You murdered one of my best men!”

He laughed. “Who said that I did? There was lots of commotion in… Helgen, wasn’t it?”

“You prick-!”

“Tullius!” the woman said, flushing now. “He’s provoking you!”

“Elisif-!” he snapped and the woman turned rigid, her cheeks puffing up a bit. He cracked a bit, turning on his heel. “We’re done with this. The girl identified him. Let him rot here until Commander Maro makes a decision.”

The woman frowned deeply, watching him leave and the soldiers backed away, looking to her. She sighed, following behind and he watched them go, disappearing before the emerged on the hallway above the cells.

“Come back any time,” he called out, chuckling after he did and he settled back, smirking at how interesting his day had turned out to be. So, the Penitus Oculatus had instructions for him. That was quaint. But even more so was the fact the little girl survived. The fall had been long and he had to give props that she did. But if he got out, he would make sure she didn’t escape from him again.

He poked around his cell, finding a corner to lay in and he studied the symbol on the bricks once again, an odd diamond with a circle through it. He wondered what man had carved that and with what pointy instrument when the doors above slammed leaving them in the dungeons once more alone.

He relaxed, laying back. Well, he had time, he assumed. Commander Maro was never one to move quickly on his plans. Tomorrow, he’d do what he had done in the Imperial prisons. He’d work the rings on the stone until they loosened and he could rip them off. Then it would only be a matter of time before he could grab a guard and strangle them through his cell.

He’d be out again in no time, they’d all see. And when he did he was going to have fun in the city. Starting with the woman named Bryling’s house.

“I’ll be coming for you, rabbit,” he said with a smirk and he closed his eyes, drifting back off to sleep as the Stormcloak prisoner in the cell down from him began to yell again, her voice echoing off the cold, dungeon walls.


	32. Necessary (M!DB/Rulindil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Request: Real simple. A guy giving another guy a blowjob. The catch? He really doesn't want to. Could be a Thalmor Agent and his prisoner (or the other way around), someone thinking the Dragonborn needs a lesson or two NPCs where one puts the other in his place. Whatever the circumstances, the one having to do it really doesn't want to but has no choice.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for Non-con and Character Death

The blunt end of the dagger hit him hard and he flinched, backing up into the corner more but it was useless; he was trapped. He glared up at the bastard in black armor, hissing when he laughed and the blade was pointed at his throat.

“Don’t move or else I’ll break your other leg.”

“Asshole,” he spat and he flinched when he stepped towards him but he wasn’t hit and allowed to sit back, his breaths becoming uneven as he felt pain coursing through his leg and body again. The mysterious Nord moved into the cage, looking at his former prisoner and he reached up, undoing the shackles. Rulindil scowled. “You think releasing him will do you any good?”

The bastard kicked the metal bars making him flinch and he huddled in his corner, useless, while the prick helped Etienne up.

“You alright?”

“I… I told you everything I already know…” the weak murmur came. “I don’t want the straps again, please!”

“I’m here to rescue you,” the apparent savior said and he led Etienne out. “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here alive.”

“Ha!” Rulindil said from his spot. “I’d like to see you try! By now, my Lady will have already seen the carnage you left and the entire Embassy will be coming down here to kill you!”

He didn’t get an answer back. Instead, the mysterious asshole merely smiled, taking Etienne to a chair for him to sit before he walked back to him, his dagger twirling in his hands. He was struck again with the blunt end making him shake and his chin was forced up so their eyes could meet.

“What’s your name, Thalmor scum?”

He spit at him which he was rewarded with a rather fierce punch to the head. “Y-You’re going to die in a-any moment, you bastard!”

“Dragonborn,” he said which made him stop. “I’m the dragonborn.”

He admitted, it was shocking to hear but he quickly collected himself. “So what? What do I care?!”

“Oh, you will. When you go to Oblivion,” he smirked. “But, before you do, there’s one thing I want…”

He scoffed. “If it’s information, you might as well kill me. I won’t ever betray the Dominion.”

“No, it’s not that.” He merely smiled again and reached down, pulling up his armor to expose himself a bit. Rulindil stared at him confused, his eyes moving from his hands to his face when the prick moved forward and held his cock out. He blinked at it before it hit him.

“N-No.”

“Oh, you’ll take it. Whether you want to or not.”

“I’d rather die!” he spat but the bastard sheathed his weapon on purpose making him press his lips together tight. He decided to fight and it only made the dragonborn laugh.

He tried using his magic but the asshole used his own, sapping him of his reserves and leaving him shaking as electricity caused his leg to hurt worse. He still had his hands and he made a feeble attempt to scratch him or shove him off but it was just that; feeble. The bastard forced his mouth open with his damned large fingers and his cock was shoved in causing him to gag.

He started biting down when a foot stomping on his broken leg stopped it and he let out a muffled scream. “No biting. And no vomiting either, or else you’ll be cleaning it up with your tongue.”

He shook, his throat tight and his leg causing tears to form at the corners of his eyes but he held himself together as he looked up to the bastard, his eyes full of hate which made him smile. He thrust in sharply making him choke but he didn’t stop forcing him to adjust and take it while he sat pinned in the corner.

Magnus have mercy on him. 

The dragonborn moaned which made him growl and the unusually thick cock pushed its way more down his throat silencing whatever protests he had. He had to let himself be used, what choice did he have? He couldn’t fight back until his magic regenerated and it was filling him slower than usual making his ordeal agonizing.

He had to continue to take it, struggling with himself as the thick cock was becoming slicker and at one point the bastard stopped. He looked up to him as he pulled away before the head of his dick slapped his cheek. “Lick.”

He bared his teeth and he was hit again. “A-Alright… f-fine!”

“Good boy,” he purred and he scowled at him, venomous insults on his tongue which he couldn’t say. He winced as his leg throbbed, the broken bones inside making his muscles shake in pain but he managed to lick up the dragonborn’s shaft, shuddering when he was done.

“Again.” He hesitated but did it again, trying to move away so he wouldn’t have to repeat his performance but his nose was pinched making him gasp – just enough time for that bastard’s cock to shove down his throat again and he started to thrust harder making him wince and grip at his legs.

He laughed from above. “You know, your other kin fought quite heavily with me when I made them take me. You’re rather complacent. You suck cock often?”

He glared at him. Of course he didn’t he just wasn’t stupid and knew when to give in. He had no useable magicka, no weapon as he had stupidly put his away that morning and the bastard seemed to want to drag this out so his death wouldn’t be quick regardless. He also silently hoped this stalling would allow the soldiers to come storming down. Oh, how he would love to flog this pathetic Nord once he was captured. He knew his Lady would probably want to go at him first but this horrible action made him determined to get first crack.

The asshole adjusted, moving closer, his hips snapping in faster motion and he accidentally whimpered, struggling to take him in when the back of his throat was hit. His head was grabbed and he was forced to swallow him fully, his gag reflex wanting to just let go but he suppressed it. Where in Oblivion where those soldiers?! 

“Gods… You Thalmor have one thing superior over other races. Your throats always feel so good.”

He growled but it was cut short by the prick pulling out and thrusting in hard at an angle causing him to choke. He began to struggle again, his head light, the pain in his leg burning holes in his conscious, the nails against his skull added to the pressure and his chin was moved up making him slowly blink.

His eyes met with the dragonborn’s and he felt himself flush at the smile he was giving him. “You better swallow this all.”

He stiffened. He pulled back, the cock popping from his mouth with a sloppy, wet sound and he gasped. “W-Wait!”

He was struck and his nose grabbed, forcing him to open his mouth once more and the cock was back in, pressing deep to hit the back of his throat. He shook violently, his toes curling and, most shameful of all, his own cock getting hard but he didn’t get release.

He merely had to take it, the bastard above holding him still and he closed his eyes as he heard the breaths above him quicken. His throat was pounded, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth and he tried wrenching out of the grip as he tasted a thick and salty fluid on his tongue but it was no use. He was still trapped and with nowhere to go he was forced to swallow, the dragonborn laughing as he came, flooding his mouth. 

He gasped when the damn cock finally pulled away, semen spilling down his chin making him cough, and his hands came up to wipe it away making the bastard laugh. “Wow. You really, really felt good.”

“Y-You bastard!” he shouted, ready to fight when the dagger hit his throat. The prick was leaning over him, licking his lips and for a moment he became frightened. He swallowed, shaking at the bitter taste and the dragonborn smirked.

“Too bad… You would probably be a really good lay.”

“What?!” he spat and before he could react pain shot through him from his neck. The knife was slicing through him, making him scream but it was over before he could finish. Everything went dark and his body slumped back.

 

 

Etienne shook from his chair as the Thalmor’s head rolled, the dragonborn putting away his knife and readjusting himself before he went to his side. He stared. “…Was… that necessary…?”

The Nord clad in daedric armor merely shrugged. “He got what he deserved. Too bad I won’t see Elenwen’s face when she finds her Agent with seed still in his mouth.” He walked around before he saw the trapdoor and he went to kick it, only noticing the lock after making his finger point down. “Where’s the key?”

“I… I don’t know…” Etienne admitted, his eyes still moving back to the dead Thalmor, how he did wish for the man to die but something about that level of twisted brutality worried him. “M-Maybe one of the other guards has it.”

“Hm,” the stranger said and he moved, looking in a few drawers and a chest before the door upstairs opened and two more Thalmor soldiers came in, a wood elf slowly trailing behind. They looked down, one of them gasping at the sight and the other pulled out their sword.

“F-Find the one responsible for this!”

The dragonborn slowly stood from below, his eyes almost shining with an odd lust as he pulled out his dagger. Etienne shrunk back in his chair, moving off it to crouch near the trapdoor as he didn’t want to see what happened next. He may have been a thief but he was not a fan of blatant brutality and as the Thalmor’s screams started to fill the room he could only feel pity for those who were not on the side of such a monster.

 

\-------


	33. Winter Kill (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: The thing I love about fics usually boils down to mundane situations in which the main character is either having a normal conversation with someone or doing something extremely boring like cooking, cleaning, etc. Because those moments usually give way to awesome headcanons and it also seems to be great on building up characters. (Seriously, that's my biggest joy in fics. Like a nerd.)
> 
> Anyways, that's really what I'm asking for. Whether its a Dragonborn or NPC or whoever, just.. give me a snippet of their life. Of the Dragonborn counting change at Belethor's or Telma cooking for the companions and talking to Ria in the process about her love life or Mjoll and Aerin watching the market and her telling him a tale of adventure or whatever. Whatever!
> 
> Actually, double props if Dragonborns are used because I love people's stories for their characters. And if you want to add a kink, since this is a kink meme, maybe even throw in discussion of a kink over breakfast or after-sex conversation, etc.
> 
>  
> 
> ...And, this is how it starts.

“We’re back!” Kjersti cried as she entered the hall, snow falling off her cloak to stain the stones as she struggled to bring in the nearly-frozen elk carcass. The warmth from the hearth fire hit her senses head on and she immediately began to sniff, her nose running and her cold cheeks feeling painful as she blundered in. Helvard came after her, carrying another elk over his shoulder with ease while he tried to grip the legs of her kill. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold, his scaled armor stiff against his skin and his cheeks a bit red but other than that he was just as if he walked out into a summer’s day.

It was the only thing Kjersti envied about the Nords. She dropped the elk unceremoniously on the floor which caused the Steward of Falkreath to quickly skitter out of the Jarl’s bedroom, a paper still in her hand as she checked the door. She shivered and stayed at a considerable distance.

“Kjersti! Helvard! Oh…” she looked disappointed for a moment. “Is that all you got? Two elk?”

“No,” she shook her head, snow falling off to wet the floor some more before she nearly scrambled to the hearth, her fingers clenching painfully as she tried to warm them. “There’s a whole cart full, as was instructed. I think we have seven in all?” She looked to the housecarl who only nodded before exiting to go get the others, his elk placed gently by the door near hers. “That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“I certainly hope so,” Nenya commented, pondering until the Jarl exited his chambers, his winter furs now donning his body making Kjersti stand up and bow. He gave her a look.

“You’re cold?” he snorted and she flushed. “Honestly, you elves. It’s barely even brisk out, grow some skin.”

“Siddgeir,” Nenya warned but as usual he ignored her and strolled into his wine cellar. Kjersti only gave a small laugh before she leaned further into the fire. She had to take her gloves off during the hunt, unable to properly conjure a spell with them on and she regretted it now that the feeling was coming back. She blew on her fingertips as if it would help but it only seemed to make them more painful. Nenya took pity.

“Here,” she strode over, tucking the paper under her arm and took her hands, rubbing her warm ones against them making her sigh. “By the eight, you are cold.”

“That’s the punishment I get for favoring magic, I suppose,” she lightly commented but Nenya shook her head.

“I would favor it as well if I traveled. It’s a comfort to have,” she rubbed a bit harder. “But we are thankful you use it. Weapons alone cannot protect Falkreath, what with more rogue necromancers and witches on the loose.”

Kjersti frowned at her words. “Has there been a report of any again?”

She sighed, rubbing her hands a bit longer before she withdrew and took the paper again, handing it to her. It was a rough decree. Kjersti pursed her lips as she stared at it. She still couldn’t read for the life of her.

“Um.”

“We’re putting out a bounty on the bandits at Embershard Mine since,” Nenya let out a heavy sigh as she said it. “They’re not paying enough...”

“Oh.”

“But there is also a secondary bounty of a supposed witch living in the old Falkreath Tower. I believe it’s near your manor.”

Kjersti fiddled her hands, bringing them near the fire again as she thought of the location. There was one main entrance but who knew how many ‘people’ could hole up in it. She knew she might have to take a trek later that evening to survey it before deciding her best course of action to take on infiltrating it which made her shiver. Her mind drifted to the snow banks she would have to break through and she felt her previous joyful mood fade.

Her Jarl came back out of the cellar with a bottle of mead in hand. “Are you still by the fire? Honestly, do you work at all?!”

“Sorry, my Jarl,” she bowed, forgetting where she was and she nearly tumbled into the fire which made Nenya yell. Siddgeir merely laughed, taking a drink before striding confidently to his throne.

“Sometimes I wonder how I made such an idiot my Thane,” he chuckled and Kjersti flushed again, fidgeting with the neck of her cloak as Nenya straightened her. “Well… You do bring in good coin so I suppose that is a plus.”

“Thank you, my Jarl,” she bowed again, this time not towards the fire and Nenya gave him a look.

“Siddgeir, she does more than that. Honestly, can’t you be civil to your own court?”

He took a long drink, staring at her while he did and when he finished he merely shrugged, the bottle being lightly rocked in his hand. “Nenya, remind me when I should, as you commoners say, give a shit? Now put out that bounty already. I want that bastard dead and everything else in that dirty little hole.”

Kjersti looked up. “I can go clear out Embershard.”

She really could, it wasn’t that far from her manor. It just meant she would be entering it at night which she figured would help cloak her a little and make it easier to annihilate them. Siddgeir seemed to brighten a little. “Oh good! Then I don’t have to shell out any coin for that deed to be done!”

“Siddgeir,” Nenya glared at him. “If she clears it out, she gets paid.”

“Please, she’s my Thane and she’s to do what I say, right Kjersti?” he asked in a falsely sweet voice. She let out a small laugh and undid the clasp of her cloak, letting it slip off her shoulders. “So, be a dear will you? Go murder those coin-hoarding idiots. Make sure their heads roll.”

She smiled at him. “Of course, my Jarl.”

“Kjersti,” Nenya snapped at her, her disappointment obvious. Kjersti looked away, embarrassed but she never could really say no to the man who did give her a deed and title. “Siddgeir, I’m putting this bounty out and whoever does it will get paid.”

“Not from my pocket,” he growled and the two glared at each other before Nenya exited to her room, muttering as she did. 

She could only smile, still finding their constant bickering an amusement and she brushed the rest of the wet snow off her cloak, setting it by the fire to dry before doing her duty as Thane; she gave Siddgeir the gold she had found while hunting, a garnet in the package from a wolf and he in turn gave her a pleased look and pocketed the paltry coins and jewel, taking a sip from his mead. She stood beside him, substituting as housecarl while Helvard worked, bringing in the rest of the elk carcasses. Siddgeir gave her a look once the last one was in.

“Any of those trophies?”

She pondered. “I do not believe so, my Jarl.”

“Try harder next time,” he muttered as he relaxed his bottle now almost empty. Once Helvard finished, he traded her spots and the elk were dragged into the old wine cellar, Legate Skulnar sacrificing his table so the butchering could begin. Kjersti worked alone on it, used to skinning and cutting the meat and she set aside a bucket for entrails, all which would be fed to Siddgeir’s hunting dogs. She made a separate bucket for the legs; treats the dogs would appreciate before working on dividing the prized meat.

The best cuts would be for Siddgeir alone; the rest were for the court. Such was the way of life for them but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t a large fan of meat anyways. She knew sometimes Helvard seemed disappointed with his share, and the Legate would be allowed one good cut so he never complained but between Nenya and herself, whatever was left was fine. She had a habit of letting her own housecarl Rayya eat most of her rations anyways since she preferred potatoes and cheese.

She took her dagger and dug it deep against the ribs, cracking them open so she could wedge a wooden stick between them, cutting out the lungs. Her arms became stained and when she withdrew she could feel the Legate’s eyes on her and she gave him a smile. He only smiled back at her.

“Pity you won’t join the Legion,” he said quietly as she took a drink from his tankard. “Having a woman like you on our side would be a great honor for the empire.”

She dropped the organs into a pail that she would have to dump in the woods later. “Sorry, Legate Skulnar. I told you I swore fealty to Siddgeir and I cannot break that,” she turned the carcass around and began scraping the veins away from the marbled flesh. “No matter how many times you ask.”

“I know,” he remarked and he took another drink. “It’s just a shame.”

She grinned and continued, hacking away until she had the first cuts ready. When she came out to inform Helvard, her Jarl gave her a look. “You stink of blood.”

“Sorry, my Jarl,” she bowed and he rolled his eyes.

“Where’s the hide?” She went and fetched it, the head still attached and she brought it for him to see. He gave her another look. “The tongue is hanging out.”

“Apologizes, my Jarl,” she brought out her dagger, ready to cut it when he put up his hand.

“Do that back in there, you barbarian! You damn elves, I swear on the eight!” She ran back to do the deed before properly bringing it out. He merely studied it and waved her off. “Tell Nenya to clean that up. You can get rid of the head, it’s too small to interest me but keep the horns.”

“Yes, my Jarl.”

“And hurry up. I can smell your doings from here,” he waved her off and she could only smile, rushing up to interrupt Nenya and her piles of paper so she could help with the hides.

Between the two of them, three elk were finished and the cuts and hides presented to Siddgeir. He did away with the heads, saving the horns but when Kjersti was hauling the other four out to the guard house with the help of Helvard, he stopped them to check the kills.

He picked out one. “Cut off its head, from the neck,” he instructed. “I want that to hang in the hall.”

She looked at the massive beast; it was one she had killed with a frost spell but it wasn’t that impressive. In fact it seemed a little small but before she thought to protest, he gave her an answer. “It’s merely for show until you get something better. You should go kill a dragon for me… that would show up that idiot Balgruuf from Whiterun.”

She tried hard not to laugh in disbelief and when he glared at her, she quickly recovered. “I-I will need some straw and leather to mount it,” she replied and he gave her a look.

“Go pay for it, then,” he snapped at her. “And get it done by tonight. I want to wake up tomorrow and see it.”

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch. “Y-Yes, my Jarl.” There went her plans to catch any sleep that night.

“Good,” he looked at the floor and gave her a disapproving look before moving back to his throne, the white sabre and fox furs that made up his robes sweeping the floor. “And Kjersti?”

“Yes?”

“Bring me whatever loot you find from Embershard as well. The armory is depleting,” he complained and she bowed.

“Yes, my Jarl.”

“You’re dismissed.”

She obeyed, exiting the hall with the elk and Helvard fetched the pails of waste, handing them to her so she could go empty them in the woods near the abandoned tower, the snow that had piled up still difficult to break through.

She stopped when she stood on the path that allowed her to see all of the small town of Falkreath, looking to the mill where Bolund was struggling with strapping some lumber to haul and then to the smoke coming from the inn, the sounds of Delacourt’s flute echoing in her head. She took in a breath, feeling her nose go numb and she exhaled, letting it hang in the air. The sun was going down, leaving only hues of gold in the air and she found herself smiling.

She loved her Hold.


	34. The Wreck of the Thalmor Embassy (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: So, when the dragonborn is not in the room... what does everyone do? In Diplomatic Immunity after they escape to cause havoc, does everyone at the party hear and awkwardly watch the Thalmor lock the place down or are the guests subjected to Erikur's boasting or one of those party games? I mean, I just can't see everyone standing around and drinking for the entire time since I'm sure that would only lead to disaster as drunk Nords probably mean fist-fights. 
> 
> I hate parties.

She stared at the beautiful Altmer before her in almost shock, shaking as her golden eyes moved up and down her as if reading her thoughts. She stiffened, giving a bow and her Jarl sighed from beside her.

“Good to see you again, Elenwen,” he said and the Ambassador’s eyes moved to him, her cold expression lessening a bit.

“Jarl Siddgeir,” she said in a smooth, pleasant tone. “Welcome. It’s been quite the time since you last accepted an invitation.”

“I’ve had… problems in Falkreath,” he replied and he looked down at his Thane who was still bowing, sweat on the back of her neck.

“Nothing serious, I hope?” Elenwen said and he slapped his Thane making her jerk and straighten, her eyes set forward and her cheeks blushed.

“No,” he growled, glaring at her and she started to regret accepting the secondary invitation her Jarl had gotten from the Embassy as she was way beyond her league. It was the first time she had ever seen the diplomat – or a Thalmor – and she started to wonder how on earth people ever assumed she was one. They were tall with hair more radiant than Nenya’s or Runil’s, an almost unmatched beauty about them; the way Elenwen looked at her she felt almost unworthy to be in her presence.

“Who is this?” she drawled and Siddgeir sighed from near her, still giving his Thane a disapproving look.

“My secondary guest,” he said and he continued to stare at her. She said nothing and he hissed at her making her look to him. He said something making her frown and he seemed to get more infuriated, looking to Elenwen and back to her. She didn’t understand.

Elenwen finally tired of the charades. “What is your name, Altmer?” she said and Kjersti stiffened, staring at her.

“…K…Kjersti,” she said nervously. The diplomat stepped towards her and she realized how tall the woman was, her golden eyes looking down at her.

“You’re not from the Isles are you?”

She frowned. “N-no?” she said and she could see her Jarl begin to rub the bridge of his nose, frustrated. She could feel he was regretting bringing her along as well. She licked her lips, sweating under the gaze of the Thalmor and her displeased Jarl. “I-I grew up near Falkreath. A… Across the border. With my mother.”

Elenwen said nothing, her eyes searching her and she began to fidget as she always did when she was nervous, the guards near the door looking to her. She didn’t know what to do, swallowing the lump forming in her throat when the poised Thalmor smiled, relaxing.

“Such a pity a sister-kin has not seen her homeland. Well, this is the best we can do. Hopefully you will make yourself comfortable,” she said and she turned to her Jarl. “Siddgeir, I will chat with you later.”

“Naturally,” he said, shooting Kjersti one last look of utter malice before Elenwen stepped aside and they were let into the grand hall of the embassy, one of the first few to arrive. She stared at the space, her eyes moving up to the beams that held the ceiling and her elbow was grabbed, her Jarl steadily leading her away to a corner past the columns. She flushed, looking to see how furious he was making her fidget.

He pushed her forward so he could corner her. “If you ever embarrass me like that again I will personally rip your throat out!” he hissed and she fidgeted even more, her breath shaking.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t know what to do!” she panicked and he rubbed his temples, furious.

“Try having some fucking class!” he spit at her making her bit her lip and he began to get agitated. “What are you doing? Go get me a drink!”

“Yes, my Jarl!” she said, rushing away from him, looking to where on earth she could get a drink; she felt like she needed twenty in order to calm down. A Bosmer behind a large counter looked to her and she took a chance, approaching him. “E-Excuse me?”

“What can I get for you?” he asked, pleasant and she relaxed a bit.

“What’s your best wine?” she said and he reached down pulling out a bottle to pour some into a goblet. He did for another but she shook her head. “Just one, please.”

“Alright,” he didn’t question it and she took it back to her Jarl who plucked it from her hands, taking a small sip while he still watched her, in a mood. He didn’t say anything negative, his eyes moving to look into the goblet and he took another drink making her relax a bit more, standing by his side. He watched as an entourage entered, a Nordic woman flanked on both sides by men and women and he snorted.

“Here comes the Queen of Skyrim,” he muttered and she frowned, looking to the woman who was greeting the Ambassador.

“I thought Skyrim doesn’t have a Queen?” she said and he gave her a look.

“It doesn’t,” he said in a distasteful tone and she pursed her lips. “Go get me another drink before her louse of a Thane takes it all. I’m going to be over there.” He pointed and she nodded, going back to the Bosmer to request another, catching some of the exchanging pleasantries as she did.

“Yes, I do hope the war will end soon,” the fair Nord said to Elenwen, the jewels on her crown so large they made Kjersti nearly stare. She was given another goblet of wine and she quickly went back to her Jarl who was frowning at an elderly woman who had come to his side. She slowly slid up to him, awkwardly holding his new goblet and the woman looked to her.

“Who is this? Another woman for you to bed?”

Kjersti turned red, her entire body stiffening and Siddgeir scowled at the woman.

“Honestly, you old crone, you look like you walked out of a crypt,” he spat and she rolled her eyes, sipping her own wine. “This is my stupid Thane. Gods only know why I brought her,” he said looking at her and she flushed even more, awkwardly standing.

“H-How do you do?” she said in a meek voice and the old woman lowered her glass, looking her up and down. She began to grin.

“I can see it,” she said and Kjersti frowned. Her Jarl downed the goblet he was holding, taking hers from her hands and shoving the empty one into them.

“Oh divines, here we go,” he muttered.

“You’ve got magic coursing through you,” the woman said and Kjersti flushed. “I can see the energy all around you.”

“C-Can you?” she said and her Jarl scowled at her.

“Kjersti.”

“What?”

“Shut up,” he said and she pursed her lips, obeying. The old woman looked to him and reached over pulling at his ear making him nearly hit her. “Don’t touch me!”

“Your father should have taught you better, Siddgeir!” she scolded as if she was a relative of his. “You’re still as dumb as you were as a child!”

“You old wretch!” he snapped, his shoulders flexing. “I hope you drown in that disgusting swamp you rule over!”

“There it is, that mouth of yours running off! I have seen visions, Siddgeir. If you do not listen to the magic around you, it will destroy you.”

“You are fucking insane!” he nearly started spitting like a young Khajiit cub, his fingers digging into his goblet when a voice drew their attention away.

“Having another fight are we?” a woman drawled as she walked over, Kjersti recognizing her. Her Jarl seemed relieved to see her.

“Maven,” he breathed out, shooting the old woman a look next to him before he walked forward to her. “It’s nice seeing a reasonable face for once.”

“Hello, Siddgeir,” she replied, looking him over. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other face to face. Still having to drink that local piss your villagers make?”

“No,” he smiled at her. “I thankfully have struck a deal with a local merchant to make sure I am outfitted with only the finest mead in Skyrim. And with you now owning Honningbrew, well.” He raised his glass to her, Maven smiling back and the old woman he was insulting shook her head, looking to Kjersti who was silent as she watched.

“You. Mage,” she said and Kjersti turned, flushing. She felt the two pairs of eyes move to her and the old woman stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder as she leaned towards her ear. “Watch over your Jarl. He’s mixed up in bad politics and you seem to be the only light around him.”

She flushed, stiffening again and the woman moved away, skirting the edge of the hall to go towards where the fair Nord was, her entourage settling in as they greeted. Her Jarl was immediately at her side.

“What did she say?” he muttered and she gave him a blank look. He scowled. “Kjersti.”

“I-I… I don’t know,” she found herself saying, the words still tossing in her mind, her heart beating fast. “S-Something about light…”

Maven came to her side, looking her up and down. “Don’t listen to old Idgrod. Woman’s lost her mind eons ago,” she said and Kjersti frowned, holding the goblet in her hands a bit tighter. “I believe you have something for me, Thane of Falkreath?”

She stared at her, dumbfounded and her Jarl began to scowl making her fret. Maven sighed. “My payment?”

“Payment?” she said and Siddgeir dug his fingers into her side making her shake. She pulled out her coin purse, handing it to the woman and she took it, peeking inside before she removed a few septims, tossing them back to her. 

“Thank you.”

“What-?” she said but her Jarl pressed even more and she silenced herself, standing awkward again, her stomach sinking. She finally understood why Nenya wasn’t eager about such a party when it was announced and she felt regret wash over her as her Jarl began speaking to Maven once more, the two talking business which she cared little about.

A few more guests filtered in, a man flanked by a Nord and Dunmer bodyguard while behind him came in another Nord with a Redguard and the hall began to fill with the sounds of chatting, a young girl with a flute coming out to play as a servant was informed to walk around serving drinks.

Kjersti stood, silent, trapped between her Jarl and the most powerful woman of Riften and she tried to listen, to engage somewhat but when she opened her mouth her Jarl would step on her foot making her silence herself again. She was meant to be by his side for support, nothing more and she felt her heart sink. She wished she was back at her home by the lake.

She thought of her housecarl as she caught a glimpse of the Redguard wandering around by her Jarl, his crown and jewels signifying he was such. Rayya would probably be cooking right now, a stew made up of vegetables cut in chunks in a hot broth. She thought of her home, the warmth of the fire, the pitchers of water from the glaciers, the vases filled with mountain flowers. It was quiet, with a breeze constantly moving in through the open doors, the view of the lake calming.

She felt her Jarl hit her drawing her from her thoughts. “Get me another drink!” he ordered and she bowed, taking his empty goblet to go find him more. She swept towards the bar, handing the poor Bosmer the silverware while he poured her another and she turned, seeing her Jarl take a drink from the serving girl, him and Maven chatting together before a man entered into the discussion.

She hung back, watching for a moment as if she was a child looking at a market stand wishing for sweets. She found herself gazing at her goblet, lost, looking around as more people joined in and the hall was soon filled with rings of people chatting, the atmosphere light as the girl playing the flute was joined by a man strumming a lute near her. She didn’t recognize all the faces, the Ambassador moving from circle to circle and she found herself placing the goblet of wine down on a spare table, shifting nervously as she stood alone.

She dearly wished to be home.

As if on cue, a man wearing fine robes broke from his group and made his way towards her, eyes locked on her which made her fidget. He gave her a smile, sliding up to her and she bowed to him, trying to be pleasant and – as her Jarl had said – classy. “My, what’s a young filly like you doing standing alone?”

She gave him a soft smile. “Just… enjoying the pleasant atmosphere,” she said, trying to be charming. He took a drink from his goblet, licking his lips after in a way that made her uncomfortable.

 

“Is that so… Did Elenwen invite you? Wait, no, she wouldn’t…” he looked her over and she found herself confused, waiting for it. “You’re much too ugly to be an invited guest. You have to be a lowly servant from some poor family in the Isles, am I right?”

He face fell, her heart feeling as if it were a stone and she stared at him at a loss for words. Even when Siddgeir was in a mood he never mentioned her appearance. She suddenly became self-conscious and covered her chest, hugging her arms. He continued to stare.

“You’re not very becoming,” he continued and she pressed her lips together, keeping silent as she was told. “In fact, compared to the other beautiful Altmer servants, you’re positively homely.”

She looked down at her feet, embarrassed. “Forgive me,” she said, looking to her fingers and he scoffed.

“Forgive you? Just me? You should be asking the province for forgiveness for you,” he said with a laugh and she let out a soft laugh in return, a painful feeling filling her chest. He downed more of his drink, handing her the empty goblet when he was done and her fingers held it, shaking, his eyes moved over her again, looking at her non-existent curves.

“Although, I heard elven women are… insatiable,” the man said to her and she felt her heart beat heavily in her chest, her discomfort prodding in her mind. “So, if you’re looking for forgiveness and want to show it… Just take me back to your quarters.”

She finally turned away, pretending to see someone.

“E-Excuse me, got to go!” she said and she quickly slipped away from him, going to a corner for some air. She looked for her Jarl, seeing him talking with the beautiful Ambassador and she stayed in her spot, her fingers tapping the goblet awkwardly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. She adjusted her dress, trying to make it appear looser on her but it hung down like a sack on her body. She began wishing to the divines to help her.

One of the guests walked by her and gave her a look. He shoved his empty goblet in her hand making her squawk before he walked away and she held the two empty glasses at a loss. She began to fidget, moving to a nearby table to put down the used silverware and she remained by it, quiet. She wished she could slip away and wait for her Jarl outside but she knew it would be frowned upon and she would likely get chewed out for it.

Her eyes watched the crowd, her fingers pulling at her dress, playing with a loose string from her corset to keep occupied when a figure slid next to her. She froze, praying it wasn’t the man from before and she turned to see a Thalmor beside her. She stiffened, her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest and she maintained a steady look out not daring to say anything to the man beside her.

“You seem nervous,” his voice said and she tensed, begging the divines to kill her on the spot. “It’s very… suspicious.”

She exhaled, her breath shaking and she looked to the Thalmor who was staring at her, an eyebrow raised. Her fingers began to shake.

“…I… I’m…” she tried to say but her voice stammered. She was what? A woman in a high court who was too shy to speak? Incompetent? A servant? She swallowed, beginning to shake and the Thalmor frowned at her. “I… I’m just waiting… f-f-for my Jarl…” she said staring at the floor ashamed. “I-I don’t mean any trouble.”

“Who is your Jarl?” he said and she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. It felt as if she was trying to keep her heart from jumping out.

“S-S-Siddgeir. Jarl Siddgeir… o-of Falkreath.”

The Agent raised a brow and a small smirk crossed his lips. “Jarl Siddgeir? I heard he got a new fool to bow to him. I guess that’s you.”

“…Yes…” she said in a voice barely audible, her emotions twisting inside her as she hung her head down more. She was used to her Jarl’s barbed words but when it came from someone else it made her feel worse about herself. She was already assaulted with comments and she was becoming overwhelmed by it. She just wanted to leave.

“Why would an Altmer do such a thing?” he said and she flushed, looking to him for a second as he studied her. “You’re rather short for our race, though. And your hair. It’s a little dark, you know?” She reached up, touching the strands on her shoulders and she bit her lip. “I’m guessing you’re not a full Altmer then? Such a shame this is what interbreeding produces. Your mother must be spinning in her sheets over having a half-breed.”

Her heart felt as if it was being stabbed and she stared at the floor, trying her hardest not to say anything. Her mother had never spoken about her father, in fact she refused to speak about any type of man but her name was Nordic, something she never explained. She suddenly felt inferior, as if she should be wiping the floors and the Thalmor Agent sighed, not pleased with how little she was responding.

“Well, just know that if you try anything, you won’t go home alive alright?” he said and he swept into the crowd leaving her alone. She slipped further into the corner, trying as hard as she could to be small when she saw a man searching down the columns. Her Jarl spotted her and came to her scowling.

“What are you doing over here?” he demanded, shoving an empty goblet into her hands and she said nothing, trying her hardest not to draw attention to herself. “What’s the matter with you?” She pursed her lips, her cheeks flushing and she looked to her feet making him scowl. “Kjersti.”

“I… just had some wine,” she lied. “I-It didn’t go well… with my stomach.”

He said nothing, staring her down and she began to fidget, pulling on the loose string again, unravelling part of her corset and he grabbed her wrist making her stop.

“Kjersti. What is wrong,” he demanded and she refused to meet his eyes, ashamed. She had never felt so lowly before like she did at that moment and she found herself regretting ever taking the title of Thane. She didn’t belong with the elite and she felt her heart pain as she realized she had robbed her Jarl of someone worthy.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice, her stomach turning inside her as she stared at the floor, her head hung down. “I’m sorry, Jarl Siddgeir.”

“What?” he said, leaning over her. “What are you babbling?” She refused to speak more lest she truly make a scene and he pressed his fingers into her wrist making her breath catch, her pulse stinging under his touch. “Kjersti.”

“Attention everyone!” a slurred man soon yelled and it drew their eyes up, the chatting slowly becoming quiet. “Attention, attention all!”

“Razelan,” Elenwen said from nearby, turning to stare at him and away from the Jarl with the Dunmer guard. “What are you doing?”

“Proposing a toast!” he declared, raising a glass which he had drank from too many times already. “To the Thalmor and Elenwen! Our Thalmor mistress!” he complimented and a few people held up their glasses. He made a goofy smile. “I speak figuratively, of course, because as we all know, no one would ever want such a woman in their bed.”

Kjersti winced at her Jarl squeezing her wrist, gaping at the man as well as everyone else in the room. Elenwen said nothing but her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Razelan,” she warned and he laughed, waving her off.

“I apologize my good Lady, because as we all know, most men in this room are already within your bed! Figuratively, of course,” he said and Kjersti found herself staring at the man, shocked at his words. All eyes went back to Elenwen who pressed her lips thin. The drunken man just laughed again. “Sorry, my dear Lady. I mean to say.. you’re fucking everyone here…”

“Guards,” she said without a hint of amusement and they swarmed on him, grabbing him roughly making him choke.

“Hey! Get your hands off me!” he shouted and they pulled him towards the door, Elenwen following to make sure he was thrown out.

He was dragged away through the entrance and murmurs began throughout the crowd, Elenwen rubbing her temples. She walked back towards the hall, smoothing her robes. “My apologies for that outbreak. Please, continue on! There shouldn’t be any more… inappropriate interruptions.”

A soft chatter came back to the hall and Kjersti pulled her wrist from her Jarl, holding it to herself and he looked back at her, quiet for a moment before he remembered his displeasure. “Pull yourself together, Thane. I will not have you make me look bad!”

“I-I’m sorry,” she said, trying to once again straighten herself out. “I didn’t… mean to do this to you.”

“What?” he said not understanding her cryptic words but Maven came back to him, standing nearby which drew his attention away.

“Problems, Siddgeir?” she said and he shot a look at her before turning to his colleague.

“No. Seems my Thane had a bit of wine when she shouldn’t have. I suppose I’ll have to lay down some rules later,” he hissed and she looked to her feet, feeling her stomach cringe in pain. She hung back from them as they chatted again, Maven bringing up the possibility of more trading when there was a noise outside. It was a rumbling and the candles flickered making everyone become quiet.

Elenwen narrowed her eyes and turned, looking to her guards. She didn’t say anything and they moved, heading out the door and her eyes fixated on the bar. Kjersti turned, seeing no one behind it and she looked around, trying to see where the Bosmer was. He came from the back, pale and an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“Malborn?” Elenwen asked, stepping forward and he hung his head down. “What were you doing?”

“G-Getting more wine, Ambassador,” he stammered. “Like you told me to.”

“I never told you-” she began but the doors opened and her guards came back.

“Lady Elenwen!” one said and the entire embassy shook making the patrons stagger, Kjersti hitting the wall behind her. Dust fell from the ceiling, the fireplace crackling and the Thalmor Ambassador stood, exhaling angrily through her nose.

“What was that?” she said in a steady, eerily calm tone and the guards hesitated.

“Someone’s broken into the Embassy, ma’am,” they said and she said nothing. Siddgeir looked to Maven who looked at him, both exchanging a silent word between each other.

“Well? Don’t just stand there! Go capture them!”

“Yes Lady Elenwen!” they replied and they went rushing out, more guards coming in through a door near where Kjersti was. They went and rounded up the Bosmer at the counter, forcing him to disappear through the door he came and the others stood guard while the Ambassador smoothed her hair back and looked to her guests.

“Everyone, I must ask you to remain inside,” she said, her voice echoing around the room. “Ondolemar! I need you!”

“As you wish, Lady Elenwen,” the Thalmor Agent that had insulted her came forth and Kjersti watched them move to the entrance, disappearing. Outside she heard explosions, the sound that fire runes made when someone came in contact with them, or when a fireball hit a surface and she pursed her lips, remaining in the corner. There was a fight involving magic going on out there that she was glad she was not a part of.

The frantic speaking started as soon as everyone was sure the Ambassador had left. “Who on earth attacks the Thalmor Embassy?!”

“Do you think it’s those Stormcloak rebels?”

“Nonsense! Ulfric doesn’t have the balls to attack here!”

“I know who’s behind this!” a man slurred loudly said and the crowd turned towards the speaker in fine robes. Kjersti pushed herself up, looking to see who was speaking when she recognized him as the man that made her uncomfortable. She flushed.

“Erikur, sit down!” the other Thane of Solitude commanded, pointing to the seat next to her Jarl who was placing her hand upon her face in embarrassment. He scowled at her.

“Where’s that Altmer?” Erikur said loudly making heads turn. “The one with black hair?”

Siddgeir’s eyes narrowed and Kjersti felt herself turn red. She was the only Altmer in the entire embassy with black hair and she shrunk back a little. She was surprised to feel her Jarl touch her back, almost reassuring her. “Where is she?”

“Stop making a fool of yourself, Erikur,” Siddgeir snapped, the eyes of the guests moving to the both of them making her shake even more. Her Jarl ran a hand up her back, pressing his fingers into her to try and make her calm down. “My Thane isn’t involved in this.”

“Your Thane?” he said and Elisif scowled.

“Erikur, that’s enough!” she commented from her place but he ignored her.

“Your Thane?! I knew it, I knew I recognized her! That Altmer is a criminal!” he accused and Kjersti went rigid, her stomach and heart moving into her throat and she heard her Jarl growl from beside her. “I have it on good authority that she was arrested by the Empire for trying to escape Skyrim! Now she is here and the Embassy is being attacked!”

Her legs shook violently as all eyes went to her and she felt herself become light headed. She was going to faint, the intensity and terror flooding her but Siddgeir held her steady, angrily focusing on the man.

“And what are you, Erikur?” he snapped. “An honest dealer? A truthful businessman? Don’t think we all don’t remember about your incident with the Skooma last year if you want to point to criminals. Or shall I bring up you shipping off another illegitimate child to High Rock?” He snapped and a mutter rang out amongst the guests, Maven chuckling next to Kjersti as she sipped her wine. Erikur’s face went red, his eyes locking on the Jarl of Falkreath but Siddgeir didn’t back down.

“My Thane was pardoned, you fool. If you did your research instead of planting your dick into whatever elf you can find you would know that,” he spat and Kjersti looked at him, flushing.

“Siddgeir!” Elisif said and near her, the Jarl of Markarth began to laugh.

“I may not agree with our young fool of a Jarl, but he has a point. Do your research Erikur,” he commented and the eyes went back on Erikur who was glaring daggers at them.

“And what of you, Jarl of Falkreath?” he slurred and Bryling was up, grabbing at him but he shoved her off. “Shall I bring up your deal with undesirables because you can’t keep a single septim to your name? How your ore is going to the Stormcloaks and you let it, you bastard? Or how you eat right out of Riften’s pussy? Yes, you Maven!”

He pointed at her and Maven lowered her goblet, her eyes flashing a bit. “You, you greedy whore. How is it, getting licked by the weakest Jarl of the Empire?”

“Erikur that is enough!” Elisif shouted and he turned on her, scowling.

“What, you order me around? The woman who bends over to the General from Cyrodiil?”

Kjersti covered her mouth, feeling her Jarl continue to hold her, the tension in the room becoming unbearable. Elisif stared at him, furious and beside her Bryling flexed as he turned back to the crowd. “Judge me as you wish but you’re all just as bad! You try and hide your secrets but those who really look know what happens behind closed doors! All of you! You all need-”

He turned and Bryling punched him as hard as she could sending him down on the floor and a jolt through the crowd. The Jarl of Whiterun stepped back, his Dunmer Housecarl trying hard not to smile as she did with him and Elisif rubbed her temples, flushing furiously. No one spoke, everyone standing around awkwardly and finally Kjersti’s legs gave out making her fall to the floor. Siddgeir tried to catch her, missing and she dropped her empty goblet, exhaling as she did. 

All eyes turned to her, looking to her accusingly as if the Thane of Solitude was right and she felt her voice struggle to come out no longer being able to bear the judgement being placed on her.

“M… My mother,” she said and Siddgeir dug his fingers into her arm as he tried to pull her up. She shook her head, refusing him for once. “My mother died! I was caught at the border trying to go home… from burying her!” she felt her throat tighten and she caught a glimpse of Idgrod giving her a look of sympathy. “I’m not a criminal… I didn’t know the border was closed. I just was trying to go home…”

Her Jarl hauled her up, forcing her to stand, his hands gripping hers painfully to make her be quiet and she silenced herself, her heart feeling as if it had exploded in her body. She wanted to cry, never having been accused of such things in front of a large crowd and she stood, feeling miserable for being a standing title for the Jarl of Falkreath. She begged for the divines to let something drop on her, her misery consuming her mind. From the crowd, Idgrod stepped forward, looking to them all.

“We all can agree that all of us here in this room are not responsible for what is happening outside. It is ludicrous for us to accuse each other. We are all here at the will of the absent Ambassador and we are all for the Empire,” she said and no one spoke. “Regardless of what rumors we hear, this isn’t a time for us to be accusing each other.”

“Idgrod’s right,” Balgruuf said from his spot as he briefly looked down at the unconscious Thane of Solitude. “We came here to attend a party, not fight with each other.”

“Really?” Maven said from beside Kjersti making all eyes turn to her. “Because it seems every party we all attend, someone usually ends up on the floor.”

The Housecarl to Markarth chuckled a bit, her laugh reassuring and a soft murmur went through the room, the tension lessening. Kjersti was pulled to sit on a bench, Siddgeir standing over her and she flushed not meeting his eyes out of embarrassment.

The front door to the embassy opened and the sounds of armoured soldiers came, Elenwen walking back in, her eyes scanning the crowd which had all turned to see her. She straightened, smoothing down her robes as she addressed them all.

“My apologies, everyone,” she said. “Although the threat has been dealt with, I must ask you all to retire from the Embassy. We fear the safety of the Empire with so many of you important to it being in one room and we will provide transportation to make sure you make it back to your residencies.”

“Elenwen? What was the threat?” Elisif asked and the Ambassador pursed her lips, silent making a few people shift.

“Just a rogue troll,” she said. She didn’t continue on signalling the conversation was over and slowly some of the nobles began to leave, Elisif having to get a few of the Thalmor guards to pick up Erikur while Bryling led them out. The Jarl of Whiterun followed along with Idgrod who looked at Kjersti one last time before she left and the Thane fidgeted in her spot.

Maven turned to Siddgeir. “It’s been fun, my friend. Send me a letter in the future, will you?”

“I will,” he said to her and she exited leaving him to force her to get up, her knees still weak from her fall. “Come on, you stupid elf,” he muttered and she followed behind him, her eyes on the floor as she did not daring to look up lest she shame him further. “This is what happens when I bring a cow to a horse show.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice, wanting to just leave. The air outside was bitterly cold and she felt her lungs sting as the air filled them, her shoes slipping on the snowy steps. She could see blood spattered on the snow of the grounds, ripped robes and she focused back on following her Jarl, the violence frightening her. They had been inside arguing while people were dying and she hugged her arms as she made her way through the snow.

Around them were Thalmor guards, some looking weary as they divided them up. Her Jarl got a carriage at the end and she boarded after him, theirs the last to leave after the Jarl of Markarth’s took off.

She buried her face in her hands, trying hard not to cry as the carriage took them down the hill. Her Jarl hit her leg with his foot, staring at her from the opposite side. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, feeling miserable about the entire thing. He scoffed.

“Please. That wasn’t your fault. That idiot Erikur was just on you since you’ve never been to one of the Embassy’s little soirées,” he said and she looked up to him. He was relaxed in his seat, watching the road as the carriage bumbled down it. “In fact, that’s generally how those parties go.”

She stared at him. “Y-You’re kidding.”

He raised a brow at her and she gaped. “Oh please, it’s not like we all mingle because we like each other. It’s usually to insult whoever is doing poorly. Although, I’m not very impressed it was me this time. I’ll have to make sure I get fair compensation from Elisif for this…”

She continued to stare at him, not believing what she was hearing and she suddenly felt very tired, her head going to rest back in her hands, the motion of the carriage not helping. “Now what?”

She said nothing, emotionally and physically exhausted and he sighed, reaching over to force her head up, her eyes weary and finally allowed to brim with tears as she looked into his. “You better get used to it, Thane. You are a part of my court and you had better learn how to act.”

She gave him a miserable look. “…I’m sorry, Siddgeir,” she said as quietly as she could and he pursed his lips. “I… I’m just… tired.”

He sighed. “You’re pathetic, you know that?”

“Yes,” she said without debate and she turned, looking out at the wilds as they rode along, her knees drawing up onto the bench as she rested her chin on her palm. For once, in nearly a year since she came to Falkreath, she wished she had gone back to her isolated place in the woods where her mother and she lived. Anywhere but Skyrim. She exhaled, upset, her chest becoming tight.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said from his spot but she didn’t reply.


	35. Sometimes Things Get Complicated (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I would love to read a fill focused solely on one very hot and steamy between any characters of your choice. A good kissing scene (tongues, panting, hair pulling etc) just gets me all hot under the collar and I don't much care who it's between! Over the clothes action is allowed but no one's allowed to orgasm (I'm cruel!) Multi-fills are very much encouraged!
> 
> *files nails*

She opened the door again, peering out into the dark street at the now steady flurry of snowflakes that were coming down illuminated by the nearby lantern and guard’s torches. It was the third day in a row there was a snowstorm in the small town of Falkreath and with that snow came a gloomy fog that covered the area in the morning and lasted until the sun went down again. It was if Arkay was mocking them; even more so since it was supposed to be spring. All the other holds were starting to sow seeds and plan festivals and Falkreath remained trapped in an endless season of misery.

She closed the door and went back to the fire, placing a log on it. From the throne, her Jarl stirred, drinking a bit of mead from the bottle he had balancing on his armrest, the book he had in his hand still being read. Or appeared to be as sometimes he pretended just to get his steward, Nenya, away from him. Kjersti found herself hesitating. If she did not leave back to her abode near the lake, she feared she might not make it back at all.

She went forward to her Jarl, her heart pounding a bit as she came near and she stood for a minute to stare at him. Her eyes traveled over his chest then up to his green eyes that seemed to be highlighted by his black furs and newly purchased robes which he had taken from her purse. As much as it had pained her at the time, he did look handsome.

“Something you want, Thane?” he said irritated and she found herself stiffening. He wasn’t looking at her but he still knew she was gawking at him. She sighed internally.

“It’s getting late.”

“Thank you for the update,” he drawled sarcastically and he furrowed his brows as he flipped a page of the book. She could tell he wasn’t reading it.

“My Jarl, please. Do you really, really need me for anything else?” she pleaded, stressing her desire to leave. She could see him become agitated, his shoulders flexing as he turned the page of his book and she found herself bowing before him hoping her servitude would make him relent. “My Jarl-”

“I don’t like your tone, Thane,” he spat and she sighed, hanging her head down a bit. He moved and she once again found herself being used as a foot stool, his heels digging into her shoulder blades which made her wince.

Thankfully Nenya came down the stairs from her room after he did. “Siddgeir? Siddgeir! Honestly, get your feet off her!”

He barely moved, his eyes going up from his book to glare at his steward before they went back down and she smiled a bit in relief as he moved a bit but his heel twisting in her back made her stop. He finally removed his feet after a minute and she let out a sigh of relief, not daring to get up from her bowed position. Nenya came up beside her and stood over the Jarl, glaring at him. He pretended to take no notice.

“Siddgeir.”

“Jarl Siddgeir,” he corrected her and she grit her teeth.

“It’s late. Let her go home.”

He said nothing, flipping through the book rather rapidly before he shut it and sat up a bit, his eyes meeting Nenya’s. Kjersti said nothing as she watched silently from her position.

“No,” he finally said and Nenya crossed her arms, not standing down. He stood up, almost meeting her height from his position before he shoved past her and went towards his bedroom. “Kjersti, get in here.”

She stared at him before her cheeks went red. “W-Why?”

“Because I told you to!” he nearly shouted making her stumble to get up as quick as she could. His eyes looked past her to Nenya who was still giving him a look of disapproval. “You will disrobe me tonight. And Nenya?” he sneered at her. “You’re dismissed for now.”

She let out a long breath of irritation from behind her but she obeyed, moving back to go to her room. Kjersti watched her before a slap to her shoulder made her focus back on her Jarl, following him into his room. He shut the door behind her and rubbed his neck, sighing in irritation.

“You’re supposed to make my life easier, Thane,” he growled. “Not piss me off.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” he muttered and slowly he took off his crown, running a hand through his hair as he did. She watched him silent, her ears starting to flush for a reason she couldn’t really pinpoint. He tossed the circlet on his bed and moved to sit beside it, still rubbing his neck as he did. One snap of his fingers and she was before him, pulling off his boots. “I want a new crown, Thane. This one is getting old.”

She frowned and thought of what she currently had locked in a chest at her home, her thoughts of leaving becoming temporarily pushed to the back of her mind. “What kind would you like, my Jarl?”

“Something with emeralds,” he muttered. “Or something expensive.”

She placed his boots against the side of his bed and moved to fetch his evening robes, searching through his wardrobe for a moment before she found them. She had only done this a handful of times before – mostly when he and Nenya were locked in some sort of fight but she recalled most of what she needed to do. She returned to his side, handing them to him and he brushed her away. She turned around as he began to undress.

“I may have a Silver and Sapphire circlet,” she said, listening to him unhook the chain that held the furs to his shoulders. “Or, if you wish to have something to match the season, I have a Jade and Emerald one.”

“What seasons,” he said bitterly from behind her and she pursed her lips. They remained silent, with him removing his clothes and she waited patiently, counting the studs on his wardrobe. She was hit from the back with a heavy garment and she turned to see him kick his pants off, stretching as he did. She flushed, seeing his muscles flex from under the thin fabric of his evening wear and she began folding up what she had been given, trying to put it out of her mind.

He pulled off his ring and dropped it next to his crown, watching her. “Don’t wrinkle it.”

“Sorry, my Jarl.”

“Those are my clothes, not yours,” he continued. “Treat them with respect.”

“I-I will, my Jarl.”

“And hurry up!”

She felt a bit of stress well up in her stomach and she tried moving a bit more quickly, storing his robes and grabbing his trousers to go with them. She shut the door to his wardrobe one last time and took his crown and ring from beside him, placing it underneath the wolf head he had mounted in his room. Once she was done, she poured him a drink of the water she had been made to fetch that morning. She had to take an axe to the ice but after some time she had managed to make a hole and get something.

He took it but gave her a disappointed look. “Learn to be faster.”

She sighed but didn't protest. Once he was done he handed her the empty goblet, still watching her as she returned it to the dresser table finding a cloth to wipe it clean. When she came back to him, hopeful he would let her leave he merely scowled.

She didn’t want to ask as his mood seemed sour but she had no choice. “Is there anything else you want, my Jarl?” His fingers drummed against the bed in displeasure, his eyes narrowing and she found her knees buckling, bowing before him and repeating herself with her head hung down submissively. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my Jarl?”

“That’s better,” he muttered and he reached down, lifting up her chin. She stared at him blankly before she found her cheeks burning hot again. She started praying to the divines he wasn’t going to ask what she thought he was going to – everyone was still in the Longhouse. The door was closed but if they heard it would be the end of her.

He merely studied her, saying nothing and he tilted her head to the side making her frown. “M-My Jarl?”

He said nothing but let go of her and she found herself reaching up to touch her jaw, feeling where his warm fingers had been.

“Get me another drink,” he muttered and she pushed herself up off the stones to grab the jug, pouring him some water suddenly becoming aware of how parched she was. She brought it back to him and he took it but didn’t drink. He glared at her and she returned his look with one of confusion. His snapping fingers made her realize and she got down on her knees before him once more.

He took a sip, watching her as he did. “You’re lack of obedience tonight is pissing me off, I hope you know,” he remarked and she pressed her lips together for a moment.

“Please, my Jarl, forgive me.”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” his foot hit her knee and she looked up to him. He pointed to his neck. “Just do what I tell you, Thane. I didn’t generously give you a piece of land so you could insult me.”

“I don’t mean to insult you, Siddgeir,” she said in a soft voice. “I am grateful for what you have given me.”

“Then do as I say and do not try and give me orders like you’re above me!” he snapped. She hung her head down more, trying to make him understand she was at his service and he kicked her again. “Get up and massage me, you idiot!”

She rose from her place as he shifted on the bed and her hands met his shoulders, rubbing them to try and relieve the tense muscles underneath. He let out a growl as she worked him as if she was a mechanical dwarven construct, her movements rusty and harsh and she finally stopped to let out a breath and try and relax.

“Please, Siddgeir. Forgive me. I don’t mean you any disrespect. I promise I'll do better.”

His shoulders relaxed a little making it easier for her to rub them. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered and he took a drink, the bit of uncomfortable tension that was between them softening a bit. She tried again, rubbing his muscles with more care and she found herself pressing her thumbs against what felt like a knot under his skin, soothing it until he relaxed completely against her making her in turn as well. She found herself staring at the back of his neck, at the ends where they met his nape and her fingers moved up, gently rubbing. She had to shift on the bed to get up on her knees so she could tower over him a bit from behind, casting a bit of a shadow but it allowed her to have more control in massaging him.

Her fingertips rubbed behind his ear and he let out a sigh, leaning against her. She found herself smiling, gently scratching his skin as if he were a young pup being rewarded before rubbing the sides of his neck. He turned his head to the right, the muscles tense and she took a moment to crack his head much to his relief. She did it to the other side before going back to rubbing behind his ears. He slumped against her, almost purring and she rubbed tiny circles into his skin until he flexed his shoulders making her move back to them.

“Do you feel better, my Jarl?”

He reached up and rubbed where she had cracked and took another drink from his almost empty goblet. She continued rubbing his shoulders, pressing between the blades and he arched a bit.

“Lower.”

She obeyed. They were quiet once again, the lit candles around the room flickering a bit when the sounds of the wind howling outside seemed to shake the Longhouse and she found herself pressing her tongue against her cheek, trying hard to focus on her Jarl instead of the worry building up in her mind. It was if he sensed what she was thinking. “Why are you in such a damn hurry to get home?” he asked quietly and she internally sighed.

“I just wanted to be back there before the snow builds up too much and makes the trek impossible,” she told him and he seemed irritated by her response.

“So what? I would expect you back here tomorrow morning regardless.”

“Y-Yes but… my Jarl,” she stuttered. “I cannot stay here in the Longhouse. There is no place for me. And you forbid me to use the Inn because of…” she let her sentence die, not wanting to bring up his sour mood again by mentioning the women of the Inn. He only took another drink, his body tensing and she shifted uncomfortably, slowly rubbing near the back of his ribs. “I mean, I cannot kick one of the court out of their beds just so I could sleep here.”

“I have a floor you can easily make a bed on,” he muttered at her and she felt herself grow a bit hot.

She was about to protest but something came out instead. Something she would have regretted in hindsight if she had more sense. “Are you trying to make me stay with you, my Jarl?” He lowered the goblet from his lips and she found herself covering her mouth, internally spitting curses at herself. She tried to recover. "I-I mean, it’s flattering to know you enjoy my company but-”

“Oh, shut up,” he said in a quiet voice and she did as he commanded; he took another drink. She stared at the back of his head, at his pale skin and toned physique and she gingerly touched him again, her fingertips ghosting over his back and he reached behind and grabbed her wrist. She stopped, feeling her heart start beating within her chest and she watched as he turned himself, his emerald eyes locking on her as he finished off last of the water in his cup. He leaned down, placing the goblet on the floor but he did not let go of her.

She found herself pressing her lips together, unsure of his motives. He gave her a once over, his eyes moving up and down her and she had to look away uncomfortably. She suddenly became aware of all her flaws and her free hand moved to try and cover her stomach, shifting between it and her chest. He dug his nails into her wrist and she stopped fidgeting, wincing instead.

“M-My Jarl…”

“I told you to shut up,” he snapped and she once again closed her mouth, her cheeks becoming hot. He began pulling her making her break from her kneeling position to stumble forward awkwardly on the bed and he grabbed her other wrist, hauling her against him making her become like a stone statue, her heart pounding in her throat. She could feel him against her, her robes as thin as his own and she began frantically looking about the room trying not to think about it. He grabbed her cheek, twisting her so she was forced to look at him and she felt herself shrink under his gaze.

His eyes were dark and the shadows in the room didn’t help make it better. She couldn’t read his face or what his intentions were and she found herself being released and pushed off the bed to a kneeling position before him on the floor, her heart still hammering in her throat. His fingers moved over her cheek, digging into her jaw and she winced, her breath tightening.

“You really piss me off,” he commented and she bit her lip. “You damn elf…”

She said nothing but her hands fidgeted against her lap. His thumb moved over her lips, pressing hard against them and she found herself opening her mouth letting it slip in. He pulled, revealing her teeth, moving up to press against her gums and she whimpered before it withdrew. He stroked her lips and she found herself confused. She was either going to get slapped and lectured or worse; she could never gauge with him as his emotions seemed to vary with his mood which ranged between irritated and bored.

Right now she was sure he was angry as he said but the way he was holding her made her heart race and her mind fuzzy. She had to ask. “My Jarl… S-Siddgeir,” she breathed out as his other hand came to cup her right cheek, holding her head steady. “S-Siddgeir-?”

He leaned down, his lips almost against hers and she could feel his breath against her. Honey and hops filled her head and she closed her eyes, the taste of black-briar mead being recalled in her mind. He merely uttered a sentence against her. “Shut up.”

Her breath shook as it came out in response and before she could think properly, her mouth was assaulted; he possessively kissed her, his fingers digging into her skin and she arched on the floor, raising herself up on her knees to try and ease the pain. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip, tongue forcing its way in and she gripped at his arms to steady herself, whimpering. He tasted of honey straight from the hive. The thought alone made her legs press together uncomfortably and her back arch.

Her throat felt incredibly dry as he continued and her mind was beginning to become muddled with the different sensations hitting her. His left hand moved to gripping the back of her head, his right tilting her jaw up, gripping her throat as he did and she shook as he harshly nipped at her lips, dominating her. He kissed her, deeply, then withdrew. “Stick out your tongue.”

She licked her lips first before she did, her hands shaking as they tried to get a better grip but she obeyed, her tongue offered to him. His met hers making her shiver and he pushed into her mouth once again. She had never been kissed like this, made to feel so submissive against someone else and she let herself go slack allowing him to pull at her tongue with his teeth, biting at the side of her mouth after and he withdrew to push two fingers in, rubbing her tongue to make her suck them. She wanted water so bad, her mind now a haze with the taste of honey and his skin and he moved to kissing her ear.

She jerked, a shock running through her and his grip on the back of her head tightened, twisting her black hair and she was forced to calm herself. He moved back, lips running over her flesh until he was near her mouth and he pulled away his wet fingers, staring at her from above. She gasped for air. “M-My... My Jarl...”

He pressed against her again, silencing her. “I told you to shut up before. Do not make me say it again,” his voice rumbled against her and she silenced herself, her fingers clutching his forearms, squeezing them for a brief second before relaxing. He pulled away, still hovering above her and she panted for him; she would have been ashamed at herself if her mind was working properly. She could only think of him, her heart pounding and he stared down at her causing her to wet her lips desperately again. She found herself moving up, trying to kiss him but he wouldn’t let her. She let out a whine and his other hand snaked back to her neck, squeezing for a brief moment making her stiffen.

His kissed her jaw, soft and almost gentle but the fingers pressing into her throat were the opposite. They dragged down, ignoring her gasps and settled on her collarbone. He slipped two fingers against the neck of her robe and pulled, his eyes moving down to look. She flushed and shut her own in embarrassment. She was aware of how flat she was and her ears began to burn, her knees shaking as she felt him eye her and she waited for his disapproval but it never came. He let go of the collar of her robe, the fabric falling back into place and he went back to cupping her head, lips once more touching hers, his breath against them making her purse her own.

“Sit up.”

She opened her eyes and focused on him as she did as he said, raising herself back up and he seemed pleased with her obedience. She was rewarded with a gentle kiss, one a lover would give to their person of affection and she melted into it; for a brief moment she even pretended as if the scenario was true but it ended as quickly as it began and she was left shaking under his grip. He licked his lips.

“What do you want, Thane?” he said from above and she licked her own lips, how dry they felt despite them being sore and swollen.

“Water,” she whispered and he seemed taken aback by her answer. He scowled and she regretted it, gritting her teeth as she chastised herself for not being clearer or saying what he wanted. “So… I can keep up… with you.”

He let go of her making her feel somewhat cold and he nodded at the jug of water. “Go get it then,” he commanded and he reached down, grabbing the goblet which she took with an uneven grip. Her legs shook as she stood, the pain of them being pressed against stone coursing through them and she spilled some of the water as she poured, her emotions taking over her sense of reason and balance and she returned back to him.

Before she could take a drink he grabbed the goblet and did himself. She stared at him, desperate. He didn’t look at her but she could see an amused grin on his lips making her inwardly groan. She would have protested but every time she did that night it seemed to make the situation worse for her. He finished, holding up an empty goblet and she took it, his nails digging into the silver sides.

He reached out and grabbed her around the waist, forcing her to fall into him which made her yelp and drop the cup to the floor. She was pulled into his lap, her hands gripping his shoulder as she towered over him a bit and he grabbed the back of her head once more, tugging the roots of her hair making her cringe. He brought her head down, his mouth on hers again and she felt water being pushed into her mouth making her whine.

This was bad. This was her Jarl and she she was becoming desperate for him.

He flipped them, mouth still on hers as he did and she was slammed into the straw of the bed, his free hand covering her eyes as he continued to dominate her making her grab at his body letting out a horrid moan as she did. This was bad. This was a bad situation. She felt as if she was drowning, choking on the water and the lack of air she was receiving. He pulled away and she gasped for him, unable to see his mouth but seeking it.

His breath was hot against her and he shoved her legs apart with his own, pressing against her which made her entire body shiver. Her hands found his neck and she clung to him, desperately kissing him, begging him not to stop. He pulled her head back, her neck being exposed and he sunk his teeth into the side making her howl.

“S-Siddgeir!”

“Shut up!”

She moaned, the sound being torn from her throat and he was on her again, his tongue against her making her push back and taste him, to drink in the honey and hops from his mead and inhale the scent of the pine forest from the hunt he had done that morning. She was being overwhelmed and in the back of her mind she recalled how foolish she had been as a teenager, her thoughts of her first kisses and encounters with a man like the fairy tales she had been told. She was being dominated, controlled by her Jarl and he only seemed interested in making her aware that she was a possession of his; his alone to do as he pleased with.

She couldn't help how much more that made her cling to him, her hips rolling against him in desperation for something. She was aching and her breath was coming out in hot pants and his hand finally left from covering her eyes, moving to grip at her sides and pull her flush against him. Saliva was starting to drip from her mouth, her eyes glazing over as she now kissed him back with equal wish of possession, tongue meeting his first before he could react and her nails tore at his skin. The blankets under them shifted and he let out low growls in response to her panting, high sounding moans.

He forced her legs around his waist and her toes curled in her boots as she did, pulsing against him as they kept up their desperate kisses, each on becoming messier than the last. Her hair was being tangled by his hands, her nails dragging up and down his arms and back and they briefly spared against each other with him trying to press her to the bed while she only wanted to be curled up against him as close as she could. He eventually won and she was pinned down, helpless against him.

He lost the fight between their mouths though and she finally was allowed to show her affection for him, moaning low as she tasted the inside of his mouth again. She sucked the bottom of his lip, pulling with her teeth to imitate him from before and she released him to soothe his lips as his hands moved down, gripping her hips making her breathe against him.

“Siddgeir,” she said his name against him, her fingers tangling into his black hair more, scratching and lightly tugging the strands which made him hiss when she panted. “Please…”

“What,” he practically spat out, her mouth covering his for a moment not allowing him to speak until he pinned her down. “You stupid elf, what now?”

She kissed him again and again, feeling the sweat on his neck, his skin flushed and as hot as hers and his fingertips massaging where they held her hips. She prayed to the eight divines, to Mara, to not let this end as her senses and mind were only on him. “Siddgeir, please…”

He moved to kiss her but he seemed too distracted to do so, his mouth only lingering over hers for a second before he pulled away. She tried pulling him back, panting, her body yearning to him and he hit her temple making her let go with a whine. He grabbed her, pulling her off the bed and for a moment she was in his arms, feeling his heart beating, his breath against her ear and she moaned. She didn’t know what he was going to do, the prospect making her throb between her legs, her chest rise and fall rapidly and her sweat seem to bead on every surface of her skin...

…And he dropped her on the floor. She let out a high cry as he did, grabbing her back as pain shot through it and he stood above her, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re done here,” he said in a harsh voice. “Go home.”

She stared. “S-Siddgeir! M-My Jarl, S-Siddgeir, wait, what did I-?”

He glared at her making her become quiet. “I’m not sharing my bed with you. And I’m tired. So go home,” he waved at her making her gape at him. “You’ve done your job for today. I expect you back here tomorrow.”

“You,” her voice shook with frustrated desire. “You can’t be serious.”

“Pick up that goblet,” he said as he grabbed his blankets, pulling them so he could get under them. “And douse the candles as you leave.”

“S-Siddgeir!”

“Get out, Kjersti!”

She couldn’t believe it. She stared at him, her body shaking, no, her body throbbing for him and she felt something well up inside her. She stood on shaky legs, stumbling to the side of his bed and she almost mounted him, wanting to sit on his chest and beg but he seemed to sense it despite his eyes closed.

“Touch me and I’ll have your neck broken.”

She let out a loud, angry noise of frustration and she grabbed the goblet off the floor, slamming it on the table as she moved to douse the candles. Her hands shook as she did and before she shut out the last one she glared at her Jarl, his body barely visible from under his covers.

“Siddgeir… You…”

“If I have to tell you to shut up again, Thane,” his voice came from the dark. “Then I will have you locked in the barracks and beaten until your flesh is on the floor.” She shook but closed her mouth, her anger concentrated on him but she directed it to the candle, snuffing it out before going to the door.

“Kjersti.”

She stopped.

“Don’t wear anything under your robes next time.”

Her entire body seemed to turn pink and her anger turned to flustered embarrassment, her hands moving to cover her chest. She fled from his room, shutting his door with a sharp clack and she stood in the Longhouse, trying to figure out what had just happened. Her ears burned and her mind worked to suppress it despite how her nerves kept sending mixed signals throughout her body. She wasn’t sure if she loved or hated that man; leaving her in such a state was infuriating but what he did to her…

She groaned and moved to leave the Longhouse, opening the door to find the street covered in more snow than before. The cold air was welcome on her burning skin, her mouth and jaw starting to become sore and her back hurting from the drop. She started to trudge through the snow, the cold seeping through right to her boots and she stopped at the eastern gates of Falkreath, staring into the darkness that awaited. She heard a coughing behind her and turned to see a guard struggle to make it to his post.

He gave her a look, shuddering under his thin fur and she pursed her lips as she looked out at her path. “Are you heading home, Thane?”

“Yes,” she said as the wind howled within the trees making them shake and knock against the buildings behind her.

“Well you be careful,” he said in a kind voice. “You know the Jarl would be devastated if something were to happen to you.”

She turned to stare at him, her cheeks already too hot and red to become any more flushed but she found herself smiling. “I…” she began to protest, wanting to tell him he was wrong or scoff and laugh but somehow it comforted her. She closed her eyes, pulling out a spell from the dark recesses of her mind and she snapped her fingers, a light illuminating from her hands and moving up to above her head making the ground around her glow.

“Thank you.”

He only nodded and watched her leave, the small candle light shining a path through the blinding snow.


	36. Aspiring Fires (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I'd like to read something where a F!PC washes the glorious long hair of a M!NPC. (Jarl, Thane, Huscarl, Guild master, random lover...) Sexy time is not necessary but would be greatly appreciated. Please. Need this is my life.
> 
> *hums*

She poured another bucket of water into the basin, her cheeks and forehead hot from the amount of running she was doing. He said nothing as he watched, fingers tapping on his arm.

“Two more buckets,” he commanded and she sighed, grabbing the handles, her arms aching. “Then heat the water. I refuse to touch a lukewarm bath!”

She gave him a look, sweat dripping off her chin. “M-My Jarl… why… can’t you… bathe… in the… lake?”

He stared at her, his emerald eyes flashing and she groaned, moving to the stairs as she descended down them and tripped over the trail she had carved that led to Lake Ilinalta. Two more buckets were filled, her arms turning to netch jelly as she climbed back up and she dumped the last two into the round basin on her porch, her hands shaking as she tried to get a flame cast.

It took her three tries, her exhaustion evident but she managed, sending a flame around the bottom until bubbles appeared on the surface. She cut off her magic and the bubbles remained, steam rising from the surface. Her Jarl walked forward, still giving her a look before he dipped his hand in. His cheek twitched.

“Now you’ve made it too hot!” he snapped and her legs finally gave way making her shout as she collapsed. He growled as he stared at her, reaching to take her arm and the sounds of heavy boots hitting the floorboards made him look up. Rayya came around the corner, sword drawn and Siddgeir scoffed.

“She’s fine, Rayya!” he snapped making the Redguard stop but give him a look. “She fell.”

“My Thane?” she asked, not trusting her Jarl and Kjersti said nothing as she let out a sigh, rubbing her twitching muscles.

“I-I’m fine, Rayya,” she said, waving her off. “Just… exhausted.”

“It was a few buckets of water,” her Jarl chastised and she stared at him, sweat still dripping from her neck.

“I-It was more than a few!” she protested but his tight jaw made her stop and she focused back on rubbing her sore legs. Her housecarl sighed but walked back to her patrol route, though unhappy as she did. Her Jarl slapped the back of her head once she was gone.

“You idiot!”

“I’m sorry!” she complained but his robe hit her face making her shout and water splashed over the top of the basin, spilling across the boards to soak her dress. She cried out, struggling to stand and she clutched his robe as she did, looking down.

He had climbed into the basin. She flushed deeply as she saw his body, clear white against the molded steel. He didn’t notice as he was underwater and he abruptly moved up, breaking through the surface before he shook his head sending droplets of water everywhere. She flinched as they hit her and he let out a sigh, falling back against the edge of the tub making more water threaten to spill out.

He relaxed and she struggled to put his robes at a considerable distance away so they could dry, her legs stinging as she did. She hung it over the railing, listening to the wood sparrows call in the trees that lined her property and she fell down into a chair, rubbing her knees praying for the pain to cease. The air was clear with only a little breeze moving through the forest making it an enjoyable day. Well, for Falkreath which rarely saw anything other than fog and rain.

Her Jarl began snapping his hands making her look up. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She stared blankly and he turned, giving her a look. “Thane!”

“U-Uh,” she looked around, lost for words and he rolled his eyes. 

“Get over here and wash me!”

She turned a brilliant shade of crimson, her hands shaking. “W…What?” He began to stand up and she panicked, nearly falling out of the chair as she did. “S-Sorry! Sorry! I-I’ll get on it!”

He sunk back down, growling and she struggled to grab some things, a rock of pumice from the volcano in Morrowind nearly falling over the edge of her balcony as she did. She staggered to his side, flushing even more when she accidentally looked down and he stared at her.

“Grow up,” he snapped and she shook, avoiding his gaze. “Honestly. You’ve seen me naked before.”

“T-That was…” she felt overheated as the memories came back and her ears were beginning to burn making her grab her cheeks. He finally got tired of her and snapped the bar of ashes from her hand, slapping her side roughly as he did in punishment. She yelped, a wet handprint now on her dress.

“Idiot.”

“S-Sorry.”

He didn’t say anything more but he roughly scrubbed his skin. She bit her lip as she watched, the motion almost painfully and she finally cut in when she could see his arm turning pink. She leaned over and grabbed his hand making him growl but she was able to pry the bar away. Slowly she scrubbed his arm in circles, the ashes rubbing away the loose skin and she moved up, trying hard not to look at him as she did. He stared at her, irritated and she could feel the tension in the air until she hit his shoulders and moved to his back. Once behind him and his gaze off her she started to relax.

He finally did as well after a while but she knew he was unhappy with her. She didn’t blame him. He specifically told her she was to service him today, she just didn’t expect it to be in the form of bathing.

Her legs were starting to feel a bit less painful and she went to fetch a large jug filled with oils from afar, pouring into the water. The liquid was milky turning the bath white and she fetched a large cup to dip into the water and pour over his head. He smoothed back his hair with every application and she finally stopped, reaching up to massage the oil in.

He groaned as she did and leaned against the back of the basin, sinking down. It made her smile and she stood over him, gently rubbing circles in his hair making him purr like a Khajiit on a warm summer’s day. She nearly giggled when she scratched behind his ears as it made him melt.

“Lower,” he drawled and she did as he asked. “Lower.”

She was now scratching his neck and he sighed, leaning into her touch. She rubbed at the nape of his neck, moving down to his shoulders after a minute and she went back up to scrub the oil properly into his scalp once she could see it was setting. It made small bubbles form in his black hair and she reached forward, using the tips of her nails to making tiny little scratches at the top of his forehead, slowly moving back and increasing the width until she was rubbing the entire back of his head.

He sunk down more and she had to stop. “My Jarl,” she said, a smile forming on her lips. “I can’t reach the back of your neck.”

His leg came out of the water, his heel hitting the lip of the basin and she looked up. “Focus somewhere else for a while,” he purred, completely relaxed and she grabbed the pumice stone, moving to his feet. The oils were making the water more viscous and when she ran a hand over his leg it was smooth. His skin was normally rough and she found herself touching him in shock. He growled at her when she ran her hands under his calf just to feel and she flushed, turning to work on his feet.

The pads were worn but the oil was making them soft. She scrubbed briefly with the stone making him tense before she fetched some ashes. Slowly she worked, used to the prospect of cleaning another as she had to do with her mother but she had more compliant than he was.

When he got tired, he pulled away and sunk his leg back into the basin, pulling out the other for her to work on. She moved to do so but he was getting bored, the oil in his hair hardening. He snapped his fingers and she was back washing his skull, fetching small bottles of various perfumes and soaps to rub into his black hair, the strands shining under the sun.

She tangled her hands into his thick hair for a moment, feeling it before she massaged an oil smelling of honey and goat’s milk deep into the strands. She stole a moment to inhale, her lips lingering near his ear but he didn’t notice. When she was done, she let it sit and had to rush down to the lake to fill up more buckets of water, her feet hurting.

When she returned he was running a hand through his hair, his calloused fingers feeling his scalp while she came to his side. He looked to her and she held up the bucket making him dip his head. She poured the fresh lake water over, the clear liquid dragging some of the oils away down into the bath water and he shook his head before she poured the other.

Once the buckets were empty, she massaged his skull again, the bubbles becoming frothy against his skull. She had to use an urn of water to tame them, his hair slick and she fetched a comb from one of the buckets filled with potions on the tables. He purred, though quieter, as she pulled back his hair.

Her arms and dress were becoming soaked at this point and she sighed as she fanned the neck of her dress, water dripping down her chest. He looked over his shoulder. “Something wrong?”

“No, my Jarl,” she said, letting go of the wet fabric to comb his hair back near his ears. He turned and grabbed her wrist making her stop. His eyes went down and she flushed.

“You’re cold,” he said simply and her eyes shot down before she turned a deep shade of crimson, fidgeting to get away. He merely laughed. “Either that or you’re aroused.”

She squeaked. “I-I’m… n-n-not…”

He moved quickly sending the water spilling over the sides and she was grabbing making her shout as he hauled her over the top of the basin. Her body hit the water, the warmth consuming her and she fought as he let go, breaking the surface with a gasp, her dress now hugging her form.

He merely laughed at her expense, relaxing back in the tub as she struggled her body hitting his. “There. Now your dress is completely drenched so you don’t have to fuss over it.”

“S-Siddgeir!” she wiped the water from her eyes, struggling against him when her hand brushed over something that made her stiffen and turn red. “I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sor-ry ack!”

He moved again, more water spilling over the sides as she was pushed until her back hit the basin, his body over top of her making her cheeks flush and her head spin. He leaned down. 

“You know, your hair is a mess. When was the last time you washed it?” Her thoughts were everywhere and she could only make an unintelligent noise, her head on fire as she felt him against her. “Kjersti.”

“M… my… Jarl…” she managed to sputter and he smiled down at her as she sunk against the basin. He reached below the water, spreading her legs so he could rub against her clothed form which caused her to desperately grab at his arms lest she fall down and drown. Her heart was pounding, her body on fire and he reached up to run his hand through her damp, scraggly hair making her whimper.

He tilted her head back and slowly he kissed her jaw. She let go of him and abruptly slipped down into the water, her head going under making her kick out and he grabbed her, pulling her back up. She gasped, water and oils spilling down from her head, her eyes blinking rapidly and he scoffed.

“Idiot. You’re too easy to get worked up, you know that?”

She realized she was clinging to him and she turned red, slowly getting her mind back. “….Y-Yes.”

He reached up, his hands tangling in her hair and he began roughly scratching her scalp making her whimper. His hands moved down under her ears and she leaned into it as he scrubbed the expensive oils into her dark hair, his short nails scraping her skin but she didn’t complain. It felt rather good after a while, like he was trying to get her clean unlike when she washed her hair under cold waterfalls and she just did it for a second.

When he was done he slicked her hair back making her blink, not used to not having it not being clumped around her neck. He studied her making her blush, her clothes heavy against her body now, her fingers light on his chest.

“Grow your hair out,” he said bluntly and she stared. “You’d look better that way. More appropriate for my court, anyways.”

She flushed and she reached up to touch the strands for a moment. “For h-how long?”

“As long as I want,” he gave her a look and she bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting on his chest. “Now go fetch some clean water. I’m not sitting in a bath all day.”

She said nothing for a moment, her eyes still on him and he reached up and lightly slapped the side of her head, knocking some sense into her. She got up, water cascading off her body and she was forced to hike her dress up so she could get out giving him a terribly personal look at her undergarments. He said nothing though she saw a smile play on his lips for a moment after she turned to grab the buckets.

It was even worse going down to the lake to fetch buckets of water with a heavy, wet dress smelling of oils. The bugs near the lake were attracted to her immediately and she ran up the hill, panting as she did just to get away. Her Jarl got out of the bath before she returned, a thick woven blanket wrapped around his form and she poured the water into a large dwarven copper bowl where he dunked his head in, scrubbing out the remaining oil while she struggled to empty the basin over the side of her balcony.

Once she did, her body still aching, she went back to tend to him. She was made to hold up a mirror as he trimmed the small patch of hairs under his chin, her job then shifting to trim the ends near his neck and ears before he finally let her sit down.

She slumped in a chair, exhausted, her dress staining the wood and he looked down at her as he rubbed the blanket over his body, drying himself. “You need more stamina, you know that?”

She flushed. “I-I’ll try and do better.”

“See that you do,” he muttered before he went to fetch his robes, tugging them over his head, his wet hair dripping on the collar. “Oh, and Kjersti?”

She looked up, slowly pushing herself out of her chair as he came forward. He straightened his collar, flicking some dirt off the front before he turned to her. She waited, expecting some sort of lecture but he grabbed her chin, holding it steady as he kissed her.

Her legs felt weak and she struggled to stand until he released her. “Don’t wear your damn undergarments next time.”

She collapsed back in her chair, light headed making him glare at her.

“Y-Yes… my Jarl…”


	37. Heavy Ceiling (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Tell me anons about how your dragonborn/pc clears out a dungeon. Can be any dungeon within Skyrim, or cave or fort. Just tell me their adventuring style. Do they sneak and stay hidden at every corner or is it a bloodbath of wielding swords and warhammers?
> 
> *whistles off-key*

He looked at her as she tied the small glass dagger to her side, her dark purple robes sweeping the stones and she took up the stairs, fetching a few items near the alchemy table for her knapsack, her footsteps light and muffled. She descended, stopping into the wine cellar to exchange a few words with the Legate and she came out to bow at his feet. He sneered.

“My Jarl, is there anything you wish for me to do for you before I depart?” she asked and he said nothing, staring down at her.

“Everything you find belongs to me,” he reminded her and she gave a short nod. He sighed, waving her off. “You may go then.”

She slowly stood, giving a nod. “Be well, my Jarl.”

He furrowed his brows at her as she stood almost waiting for him to say more but he didn’t; he wouldn’t shame himself like that. She departed, robes sweeping the steps, her hood being pulled up and Nenya came from out of his bedroom, a quill in her hand as she did. “Did someone leave?”

“Yes,” Siddgeir remarked, sighing. “The Thane has gone to Shriekwind Bastion.”

“Shriekwind?” Nenya gaped, coming to his side. “Siddgeir, you didn’t let her did you?”

“Of course I did,” he growled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Siddgeir, that place is dangerous, even for an experienced traveller,” she said in a worried tone. “There’s been reports of disappearances, murders and tortures-”

“Yes, I’ve heard them all,” he waved her off not wanting to think of it. “She’ll be fine.”

Nenya stared at him. “What is she won’t be?” she said in a quiet voice that made him angry with guilt. “Siddgeir. What if this is the time she-”

“I’m getting a drink,” he snapped, getting up off his throne to move into the wine cellar, furious such a thing was even brought up to him. He looked at Legate Skulnar who gave him a respectful nod, his stance confident but lax and he grabbed a bottle of mead, snapping the top off. It tasted like piss and he immediately regretted it, staring at the bottle.

“What is this?” he asked and Skulnar looked over, frowning.

“Honningbrew Mead.”

“Disgusting,” he muttered, tossing it down to find something more palatable. He pulled down a case of bottles, sifting through them and he found a blue bottle of Black-Briar reserve, the outside a little dusty but he knew the mead inside was good. He turned it over, seeing spots of blood on the label and he thought to his Thane. One of the bottles she got for him. He sighed.

He came back out to Nenya who was still at the Throne giving him a look. He glared at her. “Send a few guards to go fetch her then.” Nenya smiled at him and he growled at her, slumping back in his throne and opening his bottle of reserve. “I don’t like being manipulated, Nenya.”

“You weren’t,” she said in a soft voice. “You are concerned, which you should be.”

“Whatever.”

 

\--

 

Kjersti was silent as she stared at the doors to the tomb, the frail barred cage swinging open with the slightest touch revealing the path down to the iron door. It creaked, as if the hinges hadn’t been used in a century and she winced at the sound. She stared down at the door, intimidated, her nerves filling her body but she exhaled to calm herself, slowly descending the stairs. The Iron door looked menacing as if warning her not to tread but she took hold of the handle and pushed, the metal scraping the stone to let her into the dark depths, her fear not affecting her determination.

What she met was a hallway carved from stone. Wide, as if it was made by giants, flora decorating the ground where it could find soil, moisture and food. It was quiet, the drips of water seeping in through the cracks all she could hear and she crouched, pulling her robes to her body. Somehow this felt like a bad idea. She carefully made her way along the stones, listening to any changes and ahead she heard a voice. Someone was occupying the space with her and she froze, her heart slamming against her ribcage.

She noticed, before a large set of doors, there was an opening. It was a doorway, blood splattered on the ground outside and she set her fingers alight, her hands shaking as she came forward. The stench of blood and iron, of raw flesh being torn open filled her lungs and she knew what it was; vampires. She had encountered them before when her Jarl’s uncle mentioned it offhand their vampiric relative had escaped into the night and her subsequent slaughter of the monster and his minions prepared her enough.

She made her way along the wall, just until she could see the doorway and a single vampire sat within, chewing on the bones of some poor soul. She was silent, collecting her magic and drawing a Rune with her mind, setting it before the doorway and she waited, calming herself as she did. She let out a whistle, like a bird calling in the night and the vampire stopped its meal, raising its head to the door.

“Is someone there?” it asked, glowing eyes alert as it rose and Kjersti was silent as she called for all the magic she could muster. The vampire came, eyes forward, not looking to the stones which is what she wanted. It stepped down, the rune exploding sending flames all up the body of the monster and Kjersti let forth one fireball, slamming into the screeching thing’s chest, sending it backwards in a heap.

Its flesh was seared, clothes melting off its body and Kjersti said nothing. She only went forward into the room, seeking anything and found a chest full of dead men’s gear. As she collected it, tying a helmet to her back she saw something sparkle from the corner. She reached down and pulled out a diamond, its color beautiful even against candlelight and she smiled, knowing Siddgeir would be pleased with it. She pocketed it next to her breast and turned to move on. She still had a long way to go.

The two iron doors were locked with a simple lock that took only a few turns with a pick to open. Inside she found a lightless room, burial urns scattered along the wall, broken and turned over and in the heart of the room, an altar that had been used. She looked at the corpse near it, the air putrid with its rot and there was an assembly of bones, stained with blood as if freshly eaten. Kjersti put a hand over her mouth, wishing to vomit but she stilled herself. At least this was not the work of trolls. A troll den was much more horrific than a vampire – only for the smell alone. She ignored the throne in the corner, moving to the open doorway when she noticed an odd pattern in the floor. Circular, perfect and she recognized the trap.

Sure enough when she looked up there were holes in the ceiling by the grate; one step on the circle and it would rise up out of the floor, bringing the subject right into the grasp of deadly spears. It explained the dead bandit now, its flesh still on its body and she sighed, shaking her head. If only they knew. She was about to move when something came from the door, low and lumbering and she froze, waiting. A Skeever.

It wandered in, snarling, its breathing heavy and Kjersti furrowed her brows. She stood up, alerting the dirty rat and one cast of a fireball sent the thing’s body flying backwards, its high pitched hiss not bothering her. She climbed the stairs, seeing another iron door practically begging her to turn back and she sighed, crouching, pushing it open just enough to see inside.

Crypts. All around the walls there were open places, some with bodies, some without and Kjersti sighed, her heart sinking. She wasn’t a fan of the dead but she continued on, listening as she did. There were soft echoes of purrs, the sounds of bones meeting joints and she knew what to expect. She would have felt bad a long time ago, shattering the bones of a skeleton but now she was indifferent. A well placed fireball destroyed the two lingering dead at once and their heads and joints rolled everywhere, falling down the stairs and against the walls.

She continued on without another thought.

The way was beginning to become clouded with cobwebs, the sticky strings attaching to her head and shoulders but she worked to brush them off, quiet as she did. She was led to a room with a dead tree inside and she found herself hesitating. One look up revealed the secret of how it lived and she stared at the network of pathways above her, all leading across the sides with light pouring down from cracks in the mountain above. She was at the bottom of a huge series of walkways and she sighed, walking forward.

Near the tree was a pedestal and she was aware from previous dungeons not to tread on the grate. She looked below, seeing the dead bandit she had come across before and she moved to the stairway, silently climbing the steps. The purrs of a skeleton met her ears and she readied herself again. A spear of ice sent its bones cascading all over the path and she moved to her next destination, ignoring the purrs of confusion above her.

More crypts, more turns and she had to stop to calm herself, the Bastion becoming a bit overwhelming in her mind. She never liked to admit when she was scared but now she found herself terrified, not knowing what to expect as she rounded the corner. A wide open space surrounding a few urns put her more in discomfort. She didn’t like being in the open in tombs, too many places to get attacked. She continued forward, brushing a cobweb off her shoulder and she was horrified to see the stonework displayed at the center soaked in blood. It wasn’t fresh but it was new enough that it bothered her nostrils and made her look away.

She made for the chest, delving into its contents and found items that a vampire would keep; potions, some gold, an elixir and a small garnet. She put them in her knapsack for her Jarl, knowing he would let her keep the potions and she continued on, hearing more sounds of purring. What she found, in an alcove, disturbed her more than any of the spilled blood as it was a collection of boots and nothing more. All boots of various sizes and make and she pressed on, nearly running up a set of stairs to pull a chain before wading into a pool around a stone.

It possibly meant something at one point but now it was used to clean her own boots, the soles of her feet staining the once clear water. She entered into a puzzle room, the sounds of breathing echoing off the walls and she could hear the rubbing of raw joints, the clacking of jaws without flesh. She closed her eyes, drawing a rune and crept in, centering two at key positions. When she was satisfied, she let one fireball fly and the skeleton nearest to her exploded in marrow and splinters. The one guarding an obvious hidden door went to see and it too was disintegrated in a fireball. Now there was clacking, rattling as the skeletons behind the gate to the right were alerted and she let them in, watching them fall to pieces against her runes. 

She crossed the earth and plant covered ground to make her way to a chest, unlocking it with a few turns. Inside were some lock picks, gold, a steel mace and iron armor and she had to pack it, tying the iron to her back, hoping Siddgeir would be pleased. She went back to the puzzle, fiddling with them, lost before she backtracked, searching for the answer to bring up the portcullis when it revealed itself above the chest she had looted.

She hit her forehead in exasperation, annoyed at herself and continued up the steps. She silently prayed to be coming to the end, a banner flapping in the wind causing her to nearly have a heart attack and she passed under the light, hissing at it as she did. Her nerves were already becoming a frayed mess without help from the tomb itself. 

A skeleton was downed easily in an earthen hall, its bones scattering everywhere on the ground and she found herself looking down a long hallway that led back out towards the light of the winding paths above the tree. Something was wrong, she could feel it and she tread carefully, staring at the floor as she did. It revealed itself with the skeletons scattered on the floor; circular disks slightly raised from the stone.

She easily avoided them and found herself back out on the path, two icy spears taking out the skeletons lurking there to let her pass without problem to another hallway, this one lit with candles. There was an odd assortment of pottery at the end, urns or vases from loved ones or workers and she found herself lighting one of the blown out candles, respecting the dead that still laid within. She wondered if they were with Talos, if Talos was even a god like they said and she brushed it off after a moment, not wanting to distract herself. She still wasn’t safe and she moved along, winding up a stairwell.

She came to a room nearly covered in blood and she held her nose and mouth, wincing as she entered. It was a torture chamber, some of the blood still fresh and in her silence she did not notice the Bandit Thrall sitting on the throne. It stirred making her nerves explode and she was up, covering the man in fire. He screamed and swung wildly at her.

“I’ll kill you where you stand!” he shouted, his sword nearly hitting her and she shot back, hitting the wall and called upon all her magic to send a fury of icy spears at him, the shards piercing his body and iron armor until he lay dead, slumped against the throne. She heard a noise, a high pitched sound and she realized it was herself, her breath struggling in her throat. She left the dead thrall where he lay, getting away from the room and up the stairs she found a chair and a doused fire, her body collapsing in the corner near it.

She had to steady herself, casting the illusion spell calm on her own body but it helped until she was breathing normally, her body no longer wanting to retch and shut down. After what seemed like an hour passed, she moved, sneaking along the wall and she found a small alcove with a sword leaning against the door. It was enchanted, magic of fire running through it and she sighed, taking it for Siddgeir before she felt wind on her body. There was a secret door behind it. She searched, finding the chain on the wall and it opened to reveal a passage leading to a grand set of stairs. She went to the top, opening the door to peek out and she recognized the scenery. Below was the Longhouse where her Jarl resided and she closed it, feeling comforted. 

If she needed to escape, this was the way that led to the overlook of Falkreath.

She contemplated it, wondering if she should indeed go but she knew a few paltry items would not please her Jarl. She would be sent back whether she liked it or not and she gathered her courage, slinking back to continue on and up. She was met with more foliage, more earth and unstable stones and the iron door she opened led to a structured hallway, cobwebs lining every part. She could feel a slight breeze, the smell air and she turned the bend, shooting an ice spear at the skeleton there and was back in the winding walkway. This time she was near the top and she could not only see out towards the sky but lights at a hallway as well.

She climbed the stairs, feeling a bit more adventurous as she did and she came across a hallway littered with bodies. She frowned, staring at the handle framed by stones and she realized she had to activate it. One pull revealed why there were bodies around and fire flew from every corner, the heat intense on her face and arms. She sighed, knowing there was only one thing she could do and she called upon a ward, her hands out in front of her to conjure the shield.

She ran. She ran, ignoring the biting flames, the pain on her leg and her singed hair and when she got to the end she breathed out in relief, her magic nearly depleted from using such a spell. She took her time to relax from it, rubbing her arms and drinking a potion of health and she turned on the double set of doors, not sure of what to expect, more fire magic or worse?

She crouched, opening them carefully and her blood ran cold at the sight before her. In the center of the room stood a master vampire, his robes indicating as much as he poured over a tome. Kjersti slipped back, her fear choking her and she looked over her shoulder, the thought of escaping back to the secret escape coming to mind when she heard the monster muttering.

“Kidnap the Jarl… yes, that would do. Kill him, strip his flesh from his bones…”

Her fear evaporated at the words, anger filling her heart.

“Yes, then take the town. That will do.”

She began setting up Runes, her hands shaking as she did. She stood, hidden by the shadows, her eyes drilling holes into the monster and when she had set enough, she let her magic regenerate and aimed. A spear of ice slammed into his chest and the being screeched, its own hands filling with magic.

“Who's there!” it snarled, searching and it descended the steps to see. One foot hit a rune of fire, the flames coursing up its body and it spat and hissed, turning to step on one of ice. Kjersti stood, calmly walked into the chamber and when it turned on her she brought a fireball from her grasp, incinerating the beast. Its screams were horrible, high pitched and full of pain and she did nothing as it collapsed.

Her voice came out shaking. “Y-You will not touch my Jarl.”

She stepped over the curled up body and made for the expansive tomb above. She slowly climbed the stairs, her entire body continuing to shake and found a chest above, taking all the contents from within. A shield, gold, boots and a ring that looked enchanted with some sort of smithing value; she searched every urn, turned over every pot until she was satisfied and climbed up the wooden stairs, expecting to be met with a way out. Her body was beginning to numb, her anger not subsiding and she found herself growing tired. She wanted to get out of the horrible place.

She instead found herself in another tomb, a large one flanked with Nordic dragons heads and she felt herself grow uneasy. She crouched, quietly making her way but the sarcophagus at the end broke open.

A Dragur, reeking of death and fury stepped out and Kjersti nearly panicked, setting up her runes as quick as she could before it noticed. She took back to the shadows, letting her magic regenerate and she hear the monster snarl and speak in a dead tongue, searching for who stepped into its tomb. It came forward, seeking, not satisfied with staying near its place of rest and it hit a fire rune, roaring dead words as it did.

Kjersti moved, shooting as many fireballs as she could but the demon noticed her, threw a shard of ice that hit her shoulder before it shouted, a shockwave hitting her making her stagger, her lungs burning. She screamed, her magic igniting and she aimed again, still going, not stopping as her life depending on it and the monster finally buckled, its sinewy skin starting to curl under the heat. She collapsed, her breath hard, her hands and legs shaking and she buried her face in her hands, willing herself to be calm.

She remained in the tomb for longer than she should have, the fear and exhaustion hitting her and she finally moved, finding a way out. It led her to the top of the mountain, down below the town of Falkreath going on as if nothing happened. She was trapped with no way down and she felt a sound of frustration seep past her lips. She sat down, letting the wind and snow hit her, her legs dangling over the cliff and for a moment she considered dropping. She didn’t want to go back in, to be in those depths but she had to and she knew it.

She exited out of Shriekwind Bastion to the south, fighting another stirring Dragur after she did.

 

\--

 

He sighed as he shed his robes, pulling on his night tunic as Nenya expertly folded his furs and stored them. She looked to the door hopeful but he glared at her. “She’ll come back.”

“Siddgeir,” she started but he waved her off.

“Enough! I will not be made to feel guilt over this longer! The men returned because they could not push further, not because they found her body. Now fetch me some water! I will not discuss this anymore!” he snapped, his own nerves starting to come undone and the Altmer glared at him until he rubbed his temples in frustration.

“Siddgeir, if once you would think of someone other than yourself.”

“How long have you been acquainted me? I don’t care!” he snapped, waiting as she fetched his goblet and filled it, shoving it in his hands. “Honestly, it’s as if you never have been near me before.”

“You were kinder as a child,” she said quietly and he shot her a look.

“I was misled as a child. I knew nothing of the world.”

“You still don’t!” she protested and he stood, ready to spar with her once more, tired of her accusations when the door to the longhouse slammed and both turned, listening in shock. Nenya went to his bedroom door, opening it and she let out a gasp and he followed, coming to see his Altmer Thane, her body looking weary as she dropped a sizeable amount of gear on the stones.

“Kjersti!” Nenya said, rushing to her side, mothering her and the Altmer only gave her a weak smile, rubbing her shoulder as she did. “What happened?! Where were you? We sent men, and they-”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, still holding her shoulder and Siddgeir narrowed his eyes, taking a drink from his goblet as he came forth. She looked up, shocked to see him and before she could speak he wrenched her hand off her shoulder, glaring at the torn fabric under. He grabbed her, putting pressure against the opening and she yelped, bending against him.

“Siddgeir!” Nenya snapped, moving to pry his hand away but he let go, ignoring her.

“You’re wounded.”

“…Just… a small wound…” she coughed, clutching her shoulder again. He looked to see Skulnar getting up, Helvard’s door opening from above the hall and he sighed, taking another drink.

“Nenya, get her some potions from Skulnar,” he muttered and for once his steward listened, moving as he forced his Thane to sit down on the stones of the hearth, his attention turning to what she brought. He picked up the burning sword, turning it for him to admire the blade and he set his goblet down, picking over the gear. “This is it?”

“No,” she said quietly and he turned on her, watching as she pulled out a bag of coins from her breast, handing it to him, He sifted through it, finding the diamond and he gave her an impressed look. She smiled at him, meek, but it faded making him a bit irritated.

“What?” he asked, pocketing his spoils and she said nothing, looking at the stones before Nenya came back, handing her a potion. She took it gratefully. “Kjersti, what is it?”

She shook her head, sipping on the bottle, her eyes weary and her body looking frail. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“Why?”

“Siddgeir.”

The court was quiet, no one speaking and he grumbled, grabbing his goblet off the floor, ignoring the looks from Helvard as he leaned on the balcony above. “I suppose she is to stay here tonight.”

“Of course, Siddgeir, don’t be daft!” Nenya said and he glared at her, muttering under his breath. The Legate came forward, checking the Thane his hand moving to search her eyes.

“I’ll pull out the extra cot,” he said, going back to the wine cellar and Helvard descended the steps, going to help Nenya as they moved the tired girl, supporting her as she stood. Siddgeir merely watched, dissatisfied she would not speak. He downed his water, the empty goblet being turned in his hands and he leaned against the doorframe as Skulnar set up the small cot, Nenya speaking softly to his Thane while Helvard left her to grab some furs. Once she was set up she was gently placed on the edge of the makeshift bed, her hood being pulled off revealing her black hair that fell down to her shoulders. Nenya made all the men get out, forcing them into the open hall and Siddgeir growled, looking to the others. Skulnar only sighed and Helvard was silent, as always.

“Oh, by the fucking eight,” he growled, forcing his way into the wine cellar and he stared as his Thane struggled putting on some evening robes, Nenya shooting a glare at him while she did. He gave her a look to make her shut up and went to the table, dropping his goblet as he grabbed another healing potion and threw it at his Thane. She yelped as it hit her, her gold eyes moving up and he scowled at her.

She took it quietly. “Thank you.”

“You didn’t answer my damned question, Thane,” he said in displeasure and she sighed, finally tugging the tunic on so she was no longer exposing herself, her shoulder still showing signs of abuse. She pulled off the cork, waiting before she downed it and she gasped once she was done, her cheeks burning as she set the empty bottle down.

“Siddgeir,” Nenya warned and he ignored her, coming to stand before her.

“Kjersti,” he commanded and she looked miserably at the floor. “What the hell happened?”

“Vampires,” she said quietly and he pulled back, disgusted. He refused to tolerate such things in his Hold and he glared at her until she spoke again. “They’re all dead.”

“Good.”

“But…” she exhaled, her silence disturbing him and he found himself forcing her chin up, looking deep into her eyes. She showed no signs of vampirism but there was always a chance. He opened her mouth, checking her teeth but they were normal making him relax a bit. She reached up, lightly touching his hand and he frowned at her. “My Jarl… They… One of them…”

“What?” he said, not sure if he wanted to hear and she sighed. “Did you know them?”

“No.”

He found himself hesitating. “Did I know them?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?!” he nearly exploded and she was silent, her fingers pulling at her robes.

“One… wanted to kill you,” she said in a miserable tone. “It was going… It was going to…”

“Is it dead,” he interrupted and she paused, collecting herself but she nodded. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “If it’s dead, then what in all oblivion is the matter with you?”

She clenched and unclenched her night wear, eyes on the floor. “W-What if I didn’t go up there? What if that monster came down and… and it came here and…” her teeth clenched, her shoulders tightening and Siddgeir sighed. He leaned down and slapped her making her yelp and Nenya stiffen near the door.

“Siddgeir!”

“O-Ow,” Kjersti whimpered and he forced her to look up to him, his tongue pressing against his cheek as he did.

“Don’t dwell on made up scenarios in your head,” he said quietly making her bit her lip. “It’s dead. I’m fine. And even if it did come, I doubt it would get far considering the amount of guards here.”

“B-But what-”

“Kjersti!” he snapped, becoming irritated and she became silent, still miserable but he couldn’t control that. “Just… shut up. That’s an order, do you hear me? Shut up. Go to bed. We’ll speak in the morning.”

She nodded and he released her, muttering as he did. He went back to the hall, shooting his steward a look that she should do the same and Nenya sighed, moving to go upstairs. The Legate went back into the cellar, checking on the quiet Thane and Helvard sighed and took to go to his room. Siddgeir sighed himself, moving to go into his room when he reflected on her stupid fears. He went to his dresser, fetching a key and made his way to the Longhouse door, locking it for her sanity.

After he went in his room he locked his door. For his sanity.


	38. Black Mirror (F!OC & Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Request: Give me a Skyrim scare. Something a parent may tell their unruly child about before bed to make them behave or the Dragonborn stumbling across something they wished they hadn't.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm never going to finish this, but might as well add it in.

It started with a whisper in the Inn. There was something at the edge of the town, watching it, wanting to come in but it could not for it was not a person. It could not speak, walk, or smile for it would be found out immediately to be a fake so it did not come in. But it was always there, lingering, wishing to walk through the gates; the beast with the golden eyes in a shapeless black body.

Some of the guards ignored it as foolishness but others told of how they saw it. They saw the monster with golden eyes watching and waiting to come in. It would stalk the edge of town, its eyes always locked on it and no matter the amount of arrows being shot or torches waving, it would not be scared away. It hungered to come in, to be in the town with the people and when a guard went missing, it was decided something had to be done. 

The Jarl, though skeptical, allowed a gate to the built. It would keep the monster at bay. The townspeople felt safe, the guards stopped becoming paranoid and everyone fell back into a lulled sense of security.

Until the bodies were found.

\--

It was early morning when Kjersti mounted her horse, pulling at the reins as she looked at the fog lingering within the giant lodge poles surrounding Falkreath. The world was silent save for a few night birds calling to each other and it made her feel as if she was in the valley of the dead. She pulled her cloak to her chest, feeling the chill in the air and the longhouse door opened, her Jarl finally coming out with his bow strapped to his back. He didn’t look pleased as he did and she bowed to him from her horse. He waved her off, not in the mood.

“Something wrong, my Jarl?” she asked as he grabbed the reins to his horse, mounting it with ease, his dark green cloak bundling over the saddle. He shot her a look and she went silent, her head hung down in respect. He scoffed.

“One of my dogs is missing,” he muttered, pulling the reins of his black stallion, forcing it to turn to walk down the stones. Kjersti frowned at his words.

“I thought the hounds are kept locked in the barracks?”

“They are,” he said, annoyed. “But the guards inform me one got out. Now they cannot find it.”

She came up beside him, her mare shaking its head and she gave him a look of sympathy. “Siddgeir, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know how much they cost?” he snapped making her stare. “Now I need to pay for a new one! What a bother.”

She gaped at him. Of course, it always came down to money. She sighed, focusing back on the road and the two guards at the wooden gate to the east saw them coming and pulled the doors open to reveal the stone road leading into the woods, the heavy fog concealing the way. The sounds of dogs barking and howling came from the barracks and they halted their steads, waiting as a few guards came holding leashes to the eager hounds.

They jumped, snapped, their noses in the air and on the ground and Siddgeir smiled as he watched them. Kjersti merely pursed her lips, worried about the lost one. The dogs were trained specifically to hunt the game of Falkreath. What would drive one to leave?

“My Jarl, your bow,” one of the soldiers said, bringing him his glass bow which he took, testing it for a moment. He was given arrows, an assortment of orcish, glass and dwarven and he took a moment to strap his quiver to his back, the bow fitting comfortably after. The hounds began to howl in unison, now past the point of eager and he took up his reins, looking to her. She held hers, both waiting and finally the horn rang out, the dogs being let loose and they took off, following the beasts as they raced up the path. 

Behind them two soldiers took up the rear, running to keep up and they raced into the deep forest, the silence broken by the hooves of the horses and the constant howling of the hunting hounds. They sought for blood, searched for movement and they broke off the trail forcing Kjersti to take behind her Jarl, crashing into the thicket as they forged a path.

The trees became closer, almost twisting together and after a moment the horses began to fight, their thrashing heads and resistance to pushing on making Siddgeir growl. “Move! Go forward!” he yelled at his stallion but the beast wouldn’t. It turned, nearly hitting Kjersti and she yelped as her mare reared, moving back. All around the forest the sounds of the dogs barking could be heard and Siddgeir harshly whipped his stallion. It moved back, refusing to go forward once again.

“What is the matter with you?” he snapped and Kjersti pulled her mare to retreat, seeing the way ahead. It was not thick like the patch they were in but the horse resisted. She came beside the stallion, grabbing at its halter and it snapped its head back and forth, stamping, agitated.

“Sssh, sssh… calm down, calm…” she soothed, listening to the sounds of the dogs howls becoming faded even more and she looked into the dark forest before them. She tried to get the stallion to move, the beast refusing and her mare began to resist. They both stood firm, not moving. She sighed.

Behind them the soldiers came, finally catching up and Siddgeir turned on them, pointing to one. “You. Get these two to move before I lose more of my hounds!”

“Yes, my Jarl!” the man responded and he grabbed their halters, pulling but the horses would not move. They pulled back, the man being dragged with them and the mare let out a frantic whinny. Kjersti sighed, putting a hand on its neck to soothe her and she saw something move within the darkness. It lumbered, as if walking with one leg and she froze.

The stallion slammed its hooves on the ground and turned, pulling the poor soldier with it and it retreated back to the road. Kjersti’s mare followed, the horses crashing back through the bramble and Siddgeir whipped the beast once he was able, pulling its reins with a brutal force. “You stupid beast! I’ve lost my hounds because of you! I should sell you to the mines for this!”

“S-Siddgeir,” Kjersti said, coming up to be flush beside him. “Siddgeir, stop it! Did you not see? Something was in the thicket!” He looked to her, his green eyes flashing and she slowly exhaled. “Something was there.”

“What?” he snapped and she shook her head.

“I do not know, I only saw something move. It could have been a spriggon.”

The two soldiers rejoined them, holding their horses by the halter and the Jarl sighed.

“So what? A spriggon you can burn, can you not?” he snapped and she bit her lip. “What? Why are you giving me that look.”

“I don’t know if it was,” she said as her mind went over it. Spriggons moved with grace; this moved as if it was wounded. “But you should not blame your stallion for that! Any beast would not venture forth if there is danger.”

“Then where are my hounds?” he growled at her and she pursed her lips, looking back to the woods. She searched them, leading her mare away for a second to look down the path and she pointed to the east.

“Let us go up the road. The land becomes less dense and more open. Perhaps we can spot them or call them.”

He didn’t seem satisfied but he relented, his horse being released from the soldiers. He turned to one of them.

“You still have that whistle?”

“Yes, my Jarl,” he said and Siddgeir sighed.

“Alright, up the road. Though this is coming out of your pocket if those stupid dogs become lost!” he snapped and she nodded, taking responsibility. “Let’s go.”

They turned the horses, leading them up and they broke into a short gallop, the men running behind. They passed under a gate, Kjersti looking at it as she did and she frowned as she didn’t see any men on it. She had cleared the gate of bandits a fortnight ago and the Empire had sent men to guard it but now it was silent, the fires on top doused.

She was about to ask about it when Siddgeir stopped, his stallion halting its tracks and she had to work on the reins to make her mare calm down, turning round to be back at his side. He pointed to a small trail and she frowned.

“Too large to be an elk path,” she commented and he looked at her.

“Where does it lead?” he asked and she hesitated, trying to remember.

“Up the mountain, towards a waterfall.”

“You go first,” he commanded and she looked to him. He seemed firm in his decision to take the path and she relented, switching the reins to one hand, a small fire lighting in her other. Her mare went, the path easy for them to take and they trotted up the path, thorns and bramble flanking them from every side. They rode up past giant lodge poles that towered and creaked from above and down past rocks that had fallen to rest, their positions now acting as their graves. A stream broke over the path, the sound of it babbling barely a sound in the woods and the heavy fog grew thicker as they forged on.

Out of the silence, dogs barking could be heard. The valley was alive with it, the beasts still hunting despite missing their master and she rode ahead, Siddgeir behind her and they came to a crest, the ground suddenly falling away into a void. Siddgeir sighed and his soldiers came from behind, listening to the valley before the sounds of howling stopped and they were left with nothing.

The soldier pulled out a whistle and blew, the high pitched tweet echoing off the rocks but nothing responded back, not a bird or a beast. He did it again, Siddgeir becoming agitated and Kjersti turned her mare back, desperate to find a way into the valley. There was a trail, not used in what looked like years and she took it, her mare pushing through into a darkness. The trees tangled again, thorns twisted over the ground. The hard earth gave way to moss, needles from fir trees made a blanket over it and she found herself pulling her mare away from a marsh land, skirting the side where dark trees loomed out of the fog.

She heard panting behind her from a horse, Siddgeir coming to her side and they were silent, staring into the woods. He didn’t look happy. “I’ve never been this way before.”

She looked at him and he didn’t look pleased, his hands tight on the horse’s reins and she heard a sound; paws on the earth. He heard as well, instinctively reaching for his bow and there was movement all around them, whimpering and crying from beasts.

It was the hounds, racing back from the darkness and the horses reared as they rushed past, not looking back as they did. Siddgeir yelled at his men to get them, Kjersti shocked as she watched them emerge from the fog and within it she saw a shape. On the path ahead, laying still there was a shape motionless.

“Damned hounds!” Siddgeir spat, his stallion snorting with stress as the dogs tried to avoid being caught, their ears back and tails down. Kjersti moved forward, eyes on the lump. Something was there, not natural of the earth and her Jarl finally noticed. He called to her.

“What is it?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“I do not know.”

The dogs whimpered and shook, the two frantic soldiers rushing to leash them and keep them to their sides and Kjersti felt their fear as she moved closer. Her mare stopped and its own ears went back, its body tense.

“Kjersti!”

She did not listen. She had no choice but to dismount, her curiosity driving her and Siddgeir kept his distance, his stallion refusing to move further. She carefully tread on the earth, stepping lightly as she did until she made her way to the lump of furs on the ground. It was a human.

It was a human once.

The face was missing and she staggered back, covering her mouth. The eyes were still there, the teeth and holes for the nose but the skin was missing on the face. She found herself coughing, curling over in disgust and her Jarl dismounted, ready to come over but she stopped him.

“Don’t.”

“What is it?!” he demanded and she shook her head, pulling at his sleeves so he would not see.

“It’s a man without a face.”

He stared at her as if she was a lunatic but he did not move forward. Her pale face and fear made him accept her words and he pulled her back with him, nodding to one of the soldiers who stood nearby looking himself.

“Bury that,” he commanded and the soldier hesitated but nodded. He did not have a shovel, only a sword and he was forced to dig into the earth and marsh, his eyes not looking to the body behind him. Siddgeir mounted his horse, Kjersti hers and they turned them, leading them away a few meters where the other soldier held the leashes of the frightened hounds, waiting in the silence of the forest. The fog still rolled through the trees.

They returned without a kill, the dogs restless and Kjersti quiet. Her Jarl took to his longhouse after giving his horse back to the soldiers of his hold, his weapon taken to be stored once more and she followed him, disturbed. She remained by his side for the rest of the day, quiet and watching the door and the court became unsettled by the tension coming from her.

Finally her Jarl spoke. “It was probably a vampire.”

“That was not done by a vampire.”

He stared at her and she fidgeted, her mind going to the whispers she heard, the hushed talk amongst the guards and the inquiries made to Runil. It was made by something, something she seemed to have forgotten. No more was spoken on the matter, her Jarl in a mood from the poor hunt and she finally was commanded to return to her abode, making the journey back alone causing her nerves to be on edge as she did.

 

The next day, there was another body.

 

 

\-------


	39. Ragdoll (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: The F!PC is a quiet thane accompanying her Jarl on a hunt. Then, they're attacked by bandits/trolls/dragons/werewolves/vampires... something really dangerous indeed. But she won't let anyone harm her Jarl. This anon wants to see a F!DB showing her full, frightening power then slaying her enemies in order to protect her helplessness Jarl (and the fool didn't think that there was so much power dwelling under her skin). Maybe he is afraid of her after seeing her like that? 
> 
> *whistles on-key*

There had been a heavy snowfall during the night which rendered the normally gloomy landscape of Falkreath cold, the fog that usually hung over the forest gone and replaced with shards of ice on every surface. The air was frigid, the dampness of the climate making many soldiers hurt and Kjersti rode her horse into the town, holding her shoulder as she did. It stung in pain from a wound she had received in a now sealed tomb, her body shivering as the change in altitude affected her and she stopped her mare in front of the Longhouse, dismounting quickly to enter and her robes flew behind her as she did.

The heat inside due to the roaring fire made her melt and she let out a sigh in relief. From his bedroom her Jarl emerged.

“Oh,” he sneered when he saw her. “It’s just you.”

She bowed deeply to him making him roll his eyes and he went back inside his room, muttering as he did. She shook off the bits of snow from her cloak, rubbing her shoulder after and she went to stand respectfully before his throne to wait for him obediently. His door was open and she took a peek inside seeing him moving about, his robes a bright white. He threw on dark black furs, his crown of silver and sapphire and she felt herself blush as she saw him.

Somehow the white and black furs made him look regal and respectful and he came out, Nenya following behind in a light blue dress. She smiled at her and she smiled back. “Kjersti, how was the road?” she asked in a light tone.

“There’s a fair bit of snow but not enough to detract travellers,” she replied, respectful as her Jarl brushed past her, going to the old wine cellar where the Legate and his housecarl Helvard were. “It will probably melt by this afternoon.”

“Hopefully,” Nenya sighed. “It’s been an age since there’s been snowfall in the town but it happens. I only worry since we have been given an order for lumber and Bolund may not be able to fulfill it in time."

Kjersti frowned. “Who ordered lumber?” she asked and Nenya shrugged, at a loss. She was about to ask more but her Jarl came back out from the cellar, his eyes on her.

“Are you two done gossiping?” he growled and she bit her lip, moving to his side. He looked her over, silent, but she could feel him judging her making her bow again respectfully. He snorted. “You look terrible.”

“Sorry my Jarl,” she apologized and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Go to the barracks and fetch my bow,” he ordered and she moved to the door, bringing her cloak around her. “And hurry it up. You’re already disappointing me today.”

“Yes, my Jarl. Sorry, my Jarl,” she called before she left, rushing to the barracks where the guards of Falkreath stayed. She entered, keeping her head down as a few of them were changing and she went to the armory, pulling out her keys to unlock her Jarl’s personal chest, her fingers shaking as she did as the metal was cold. Inside was his glass bow, the nook a little worn and she pulled it out, trying to shine it on her dress before she fetched his quiver. He was running low on dwarven arrows and she sighed, making a mental note.

She kept her head down as she left, the guards now dressed but as sheepish as she was and she exited back out into the snowy town, coming to see her mare still standing by the longhouse, her nose sniffing the goat that was puffed up from the cold. She went to its side, giving it a pet before the sounds of hooves on the snow-covered stones drew her gaze up. Her Jarl’s black stallion was led to her side, the guard handing her the reins and she held the horses’ leads in one hand, her Jarl’s bow and quiver in the other and she waited.

He took his time coming out making her shoulder hurt and her lungs sting as she inhaled the harsh air. The sun kept shifting between clouds making her doubt her prediction it would melt before nightfall and she turned to see Mathies coming out of his house, taking a minute to size up the weather before disappearing back in, only returning when he had some furs around his shoulders.

Thadgeir wasn’t outside chopping wood and Lod only came out to heat his forge before he went back in, the town quiet as the chill was driving people to stay inside. She shivered, her shoulders shaking and finally her Jarl came out, his features striking against the snow as he moved, snapping on his leather gauntlets.

She held out his bow and he scowled at her, grabbing the reins to his stallion as he went to mount his steed, easily getting on. She held out his bow again and he glared at her until she switched it with his quiver. He strapped it to his back finally taking his bow after and she gave him a short courtesy before moving to her mare. She mounted it, holding the reins and he looked up to the sky.

“We’ll go east this time,” he said and she nodded, following him as he turned his stallion, the beast moving to ride down the stones. She followed, the snow under their hooves being kicked up and they rode out through the gate, her mare snorting as they took the strong incline. The world was covered in snow, tree branches groaning under the weight and he turned his stallion down the road to the east, both riding out, her previous hoof prints the only marks in the snow.

Her Jarl seemed pleased by it and they slowed down, her mare taking to his side. He looked out, scanning the landscape.

“Look for a multitude of tracks,” he ordered. “The small herd to the north of here may have moved.”

“How do you know?” she asked and he glared at her making her flush. “Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

He said nothing and they passed underneath the bandit’s gate, her eyes scanning the rocks where the snow was sticking, the air around them cold. They stopped once, his eyes spotting a trail but the tracks revealed to be a small herd of does and they continued, his interest not with them. He was looking for another trophy, an old elk with large horns and she followed with him, staying by his side.

They rode strong and slowly the sun began to rise above the clouds, the rays welcome on their backs as they did.

She pointed it out first at the height of the day. “There’s some tracks,” she said, the marks leading to the south. He pulled his stallion along, looking down the trail which led deep into the brush, his eyes narrowing before he shook his head.

“It’s not the herd,” he muttered and she sighed. They rode up further, the snow starting to drop off the trees, the snow slowly melting and a noise drove their eyes up.

It was a heavy grunting, the sounds an enraged animal made and her mare’s ears went back, his stallion snorting. She looked to her Jarl who unhooked his bow, slowly pulling out an arrow, his eyes set forward. She readied her hands.

The sounds stopped, a silence hanging in the air and there was a weak panting, a young fox running out of the woods, its tongue hanging from its mouth. It looked behind it, its eyes wide and Kjersti relaxed, sighing. “It’s just a fox.”

“That noise was no fox,” her Jarl muttered and she frowned. He readied his bow, waiting and his stallion began to stamp. She reached over, grabbing the reins, shushing the beast but it was becoming agitated, her own mare now acting distressed. The sounds of grunting began but it was closer now making her realize whatever it was, it was big.

Something broke through the trees, breath hanging in the air and a cave bear moved from out of the dark firs, drool hanging from its drooped lip, its brown fur striking against the snow. Her Jarl’s stallion stamped, backing up and her mare followed, both horses frightened by the monster in front of them, blood dripping from the bear’s mouth.

It had killed something and they were too close, the beast threatened. Kjersti stiffened, her eyes moving to her Jarl and he kept his aim, his eyes locked on the bear.

It moved to a standing position, its head falling back as it roared and he let his arrow go, a whistle sounding in the air before it pierced the bear’s stomach. It fell back down, calling in pain and Kjersti let go of her Jarl’s horse, her mare struggling to reverse. “S-Siddgeir…”

He pulled out another arrow and looked to her. “Don’t just sit there! You’re my fucking Thane for a reason! Use your damn magic!”

She stared before nodding. Right. She called a spell in both hands, her mare turning allowing her to use both her hands and she shot a fireball at the beast, the animal stumbling back as the flames burned its fur, the beast letting out a roar and her Jarl let his arrow fly, the tip cutting into its neck.

She hit it with an ice shard, the sliver shattering when it hit the bear’s side and the beast hit the stones, not moving making her lower her hands. He stopped aiming with his arrow, slowly putting it away and she slid off her horse, walking over to it to check. It was dead and she nodded to her Jarl. He lowered his bow, sighing before he pointed at it.

“Skin it,” he commanded. “Save whatever parts of the pelt you can.”

She nodded, moving back to her mare to grab a knife but the beast whinnied and stepped back, its ears flat on its skull. She frowned. “What’s the matter, girl?”

Her Jarl’s stallion stamped, its head throwing back and she turned, a snarling roar coming from behind her. The trees shook, a thump sounding and a large bear with its muzzle covered in blood stormed out of the forest. It spotted them, its lip pulling back and Kjersti moved, throwing a fireball at it as her mare reared and turned to run. It hit the bear in the side making it stagger and it roared, saliva dripping from its teeth.

She froze as it didn’t turn to her but focused on her Jarl. Its eyes were locked on him, the beast spitting in rage and he pulled out his bow, his horse moving back.

From behind the bear something moved and a second cave bear emerged, not as infuriated as its partner but it was much larger, almost dwarfing it. It looked to Siddgeir, grunting as it did and she called forth a wall of fire. She would not let these beasts go anywhere near him. She would rather die than let it happen.

The line shot out, slicing across the road and the snow that it touched melted almost instantly, the fire separating them and him. The agitated bear turned, noticing her and she switched to frost spells, shooting spears at it to slow it down. The bear roared in pain as they hit making its larger protector turn, lip curling and she realized she was now facing down two.

Her Jarl pulled out an arrow, aiming, but she shouted at him. “Don’t!” He stopped, glaring at her and she shook her head. “Don’t draw their attention to you! I’ll handle this!”

“Are you mad?!” he yelled and she ignored him, calling forth an ice storm and she threw her hands down, the shards shooting out to pelt the bears. It ripped at their fur and the largest got one in the side of the head, its roar almost deafening as it staggered back.

It seemed like she was winning when the young, snarling brute came rushing towards her, the ice not slowing him down. She staggered, dodging its claws and she threw a fireball into its face, embers slashing its nose making it stop to bellow, its paw hitting its face. She threw a fireball at the larger one, hitting its head and it turned on her, its frame physically menacing. She judged them, knowing if she continued to hit them, they would fall but her magic was starting to deplete.

She had to make a decision and she dodged the young bear running at her, the beast narrowly missing her small frame and she danced about, grabbing the hem of her robes to hike them up. One good shard through the head could kill it and leave her enough magic to take down the big one. She readied her hand but the large one went charging.

She couldn’t dodge it in time and a single swing sent her screaming as she was slammed to the road. One hit took her down and her insides seemed to crumble, her back hurting. It didn’t relent.

A paw came down and ripped at her stomach making her shout as her skin coated its claws, blood spilling from her. She kicked out, trying to get away but the beast hit her again as if she was a doll, her body tumbling on the road, more blood pouring from fresh wounds. She cried out and an arrow came shooting out, hitting the bear in its shoulder. It looked up and she felt pure terror hit her.

“Don’t!” she screamed at her Jarl again as the wall of flames between them was dying. The bear stepped over her and she panicked, shooting a shard of ice into its back leg making it roar. “Siddgeir! RUN!”

He said nothing, his stallion frantic as it tried to get back and he grabbed another arrow, aiming but he released too soon, his aim off and it his just before the bear. It continued its path, not caring for the wound in its leg.

She moved, ready to strike again when the young bear came out and lunged at her. She moved, crossing her arms to protect herself and its teeth sank into her right arm making her scream, the bone shattering.

It was the worst pain she had ever felt but the newly torn flesh made the larger one turn. She was wounded, bleeding and screaming and it made her the target. It came towards her and she struggled with the bear on her already. She was blacking out from the pain but she couldn’t just give up. She readied her hand and called on her magic, her blood filling with her ancestor’s gift. She was given an excess just for a moment but it would do.

She fought for her life, the jaw crushing her arm making her nearly crumble but the bears were focused on her, her wild shots of fire driving them from the horses and her Jarl giving her an extra boost. The flesh was being shredded, her mind struggling with the pain but she had to keep fighting.

She stabbed the bear in the eye with an ice shard, the beast letting her go with a horrific roar and she kicked back, the other one swiping at her but it missed. She used up the last of her magic to finally use her trump card. She drew the portal in her mind.

“Help me!” she screamed, aiming at the ground. Her magic released and she fell back, her hand aching.

There was a bubble, the plane being ripped open and a figure emerged from the depths of oblivion, its body made of flames, no eyes in its head. It recognized the threat, the bears still advancing on her and it started to attack, the fire it could conjure striking the beasts, their fur becoming consumed. Only one turned; the larger one. For once things were going her way.

The one that had tasted her flesh still came. She staggered back, no weapon, no magic and she began to be filled with fear. Her arm was bleeding profusely, her stomach ripped, her robes ragged and she stumbled back as it advanced. The beast was drooling, its eyes locked on her and behind it, her flame atronach was shooting fireballs into the dying bear it was fighting.

She didn’t have time and she moved to run as a last ditch effort. The bear shot after her and she heard it behind her, one swipe sending her down again, her body crumpling as he got on top of her. Its claws were the worst as they tore into her, heavy breath against her neck and she felt her life draining away, pouring out of her as it attacked.

At least if she was going to die, she would have saved her Jarl during it.

The bear roared above her and she felt its body weight slump against her, her small frame nearly being crushed by it. She clawed at the earth with her one good hand, gasping as fur obstructed her view, her chest struggling for air and the world around her went black.

 

 

A pressure against her brought her back and she cried out as she felt hands on her chest, pain coursing through her body. She twisted, grabbing her arm instinctively and she was held tight, her eyes unable to focus.

“Calm down, you stupid elf!” a voice called and she sobbed, squirming. It was her Jarl and she tried to obey him but the pain was so great she broke from his command. She could feel the peeled back flesh, her bone exposed, her throat raw and sore from her crying and hands were on her again, something warm spreading through her. She whined but didn’t resist. A cloth touched her head, water dripping down her temples and she relaxed for the first time since she was ripped apart.

There was something moving into her, a healing spell but more powerful and she laid against whatever she was on, her eyes closing as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her arm was taken, bandages being wrapped around the deep wound and she sighed as more of the healing spell was spread over her body.

The cloth was taken away and she felt as if she was left alone, something sounding in the air like delicate shards of ice gently touching. She didn’t recognize the sound and she whimpered, rolling on her side but she was stopped, a rough hand on her.

“Don’t start flipping around,” her Jarl’s voice came and she opened her eyes again, her vision still fuzzy.

“S…Sidd…”

“Be quiet,” he muttered and she obeyed, her head throbbing. “You’re in Whiterun.” Her eyes opened immediately, her body tensing and he hissed making her stop. “Keep it up and you’re going to bleed all over the place again.”

“W-Why Whiterun?” she choked out, her eyes frantic and she finally managed to focus one eye, her vision focusing on him. His robes were stained with blood and she bit her lip, looking around more and she struggled to get up but he came and prevented her. She was pushed back down, her head hitting stone and she whimpered, reaching up with her one hand, pain coursing through her body.

“Just stay down,” he snapped. “Otherwise I have to deal with these damn priestesses. And I will hurt you more than you can stand if you make me.”

“S-Sorry,” she mumbled, laying down and he sighed from above her. “How long… do I have to stay?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and he stepped back when the priestess came, her eyes dark as she reached down and placed her hands on her. She called for a healing spell, the magic binding her wounds and she groaned as her stomach seemed to knit back together, the flesh being stretched. The priestess pulled a wet cloth up to place over her head and did it again, some smaller wounds mending.

They left again leaving her with her Jarl and he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, standing next to her and she weakly reached up, tugging at him. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly and he looked down at her. “Your robes… the bears… making you come here…”

“You should be,” he muttered but he reached down, his hand stroking her hair making her flush. “You almost died, you stupid elf.”

“I know,” she said and he scowled at her making her become silent. “I-I won’t do it again.”

“You better not,” he commented. “I don’t allow my property to just die on me.” She flushed in response. “Now I’m going up to see that idiot Balgruuf so don’t move and let the priestess work.”

She nodded and he stroked her hair before leaving, nodding to one of the priestesses who came to her side. After the door closed the woman looked down to her, her hand touching her arm. “You’re a very lucky girl,” she said and she looked to her, her other eye starting to clear. “You were on the brink of death when your husband brought you in.”

She stared at her. “Hus…band?” She nodded, sending a weak healing spell over her and Kjersti realized what she meant, her mind seeming to be repaired. “H-He’s not my husband!” The priestess looked at her and she flushed deep. “He’s… we’re… we’re not… I’m just his Thane.”

“Well, you must be very important to him,” she said, placing the cloth over her head, the cool water dripping down and another spell hit her body, her arm starting to feel better. “He rode from Falkreath in a night to bring you here. He told us he would pay for your full recovery and even tried to help.”

Kjersti felt her ears burn. They must have been mistaken. “N-Not him,” she said in a light voice. “H-He doesn’t even like me on his best days.”

“Really?” the priestess said as she removed the cloth. “Well, he seemed to be in a panic with you when he brought you in. You were very close to death. He said he shot a bear that was attacking you but you still bled. He looked almost sick when you started screaming.”

Her breath caught in her throat and the priestess moved away, going to another person who was moaning on the stone slabs. Her job with her done. She lay on the stone, her mind confused and she found herself burying her face in her hand, her heart pounding in her chest as she thought of her Jarl. Surely they were joking.

When he came back she found herself not able to look at him; his clothes were different, obvious that he changed and he stood by her, sour as he did. She lay awkwardly on the stone.

“My Jarl?” she asked and he stirred, not looking to her. “Can we keep this quiet? This whole ordeal?”

He looked down at her for a second. “If you breathed a word about this in Falkreath, I’d cut you worse than that bear,” he muttered and she nodded.

“I won’t,” she said, laying back down, relieved but he moved, reaching to touch her, his fingers stroking her hair and she closed her eyes, letting him. After a minute she reached up, her ring finger touching his palm and he stopped before he lightly gripped her finger, his warmth making her flush.

He eventually moved to holding her hand and they were quiet, their fingers lacing together. Her arm was still torn, her body sore from being banged up but his touch made her feel better. She didn’t want to go back to Falkreath, not yet and he seemed to sense it.

“Once you can move I’ll take you back to your manor,” he said quietly and she looked to him. “You’re to stay there when you get there. You’re not fit to stay in the court until you heal.”

Her heart thumped. “My Jarl? Y-You don’t need to take me back…”

He said nothing but her hand was squeezed making her flush. She timidly squeezed back.

“Yes, I do.”


	40. Just (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Some young lady gives some guy the loudest, slowest, most succulent blowjob of his life. And just to make things interesting, the female can't be the Dragonborn
> 
> *whistles while working*

She pursed her lips as she kneeled before him, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. Her Jarl stared down at her with displeasure, tapping the arm of his throne before she finally broke.

“I can’t,” she whispered and he glared at her making her stare at the stones, the back of her neck beading with sweat.

“I commanded it,” he reminded her with a low growl and she let out a shaky breath.

“Please,” she tried. “Siddgeir, I-I can’t.”

“Kjersti.”

“Siddgeir,” she begged, tearing her eyes from the floor to look at him and she regretted it as his emerald eyes flashed at her. Her fingers gripped her robes, twisting the fabric and she went back to staring at the stones, her head hung down submissively. She watched his foot move and it disappeared for a second before there was a weight on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, praying to the divines.

“You pledged yourself to me, may I remind you, you stupid elf?” he hissed. “You swore you would do every command I give and I gave you one. Now do it.”

She bowed further, wringing her robes in her hands.

“I don’t know how,” she finally said in hopes it would free her but he merely dug his heel into her shoulder making her squeak.

“Then it’s a perfect time for you to learn.”

She looked up at him, biting her lip and he reached down, squeezing himself for emphasis. She tore her eyes away, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding in her throat.

“Kjersti.”

She let out a breath and met his eyes again, silently begging him to reconsider. His expression showed he wasn’t going to and she shifted on her knees trying to ignore his foot on her shoulder, her heart racing.

“What if someone hears?”

“Be quiet then,” he muttered and she sighed. “Kjersti, I am not waiting all night. If you don’t get to this tonight then you will be sucking me off in the morning in front of everyone.”

She stopped breathing.

“It’s your choice.”

She closed her eyes, feeling herself shake before she exhaled, gently reaching up to push his foot off her body. He did as she wished, his foot hitting the floor and she rose up off her knees, timidly placing her hands on his legs. She felt him shift, her own body doing the same and she took a moment to calm herself. She briefly gazed up to him, their eyes meeting and he was giving her a dark look making her feel small.

She really didn’t want her first time with her Jarl to be like this but she had no choice. He had power over her and an almost rigid disregard for her feelings with it. It hurt her often, making her nearly go crazy some days when he would get especially nasty to her but she still loved him dearly as stupid as she was for it. She pursed her lips and reached under his robes, pushing them up, deciding to just honor his wishes as quickly as she could; before anyone woke up and saw her and before he decided to be crueler to her.

When her fingers touched his bare skin as she pulled down his trousers she flinched a little and he tapped his fingers on the arm rest in irritation making her flush. She steeled herself and continued moving his robes until she revealed his thighs and under garments. There was a noticeable lump between his legs and she felt her heart beat hard as she stared at it.

After a few minutes he slapped her and she whimpered, letting go of his body to hold her head. “Stop gawking!”

“I’m sorry!” she whimpered. “I’ve just never…”

“What?”

She pressed her lips together, not wishing to say but she knew he would get it out of her regardless. “I’ve… never seen… a man…”

He sighed through his nose and she found herself staring at his legs as an awkward silence fell between them. He was awfully white she noticed. She touched his thigh, her golden skin looking vibrant next to his and he reached down and grabbed her wrist making her stiffen. He guided it to the bulge and forced it on him and she felt the color drain from her cheeks.

They were quiet again and she finally inhaled, eyes locked on where her hand was. “It’s warm.”

“Of course it’s warm you stupid elf,” he spit at her and she felt her cheeks slowly become red again.

They were quiet again and he let out a breath of irritation. She found herself squirming under him, her fingers trying hard not to grip the foreign lump under her palm.

“W-What do I do?” she asked and he said nothing, his eyes locked on her. He guided her wrist under the cloth that he wore and she felt her fingers timidly touch his body, the tips gliding over a hard muscle. She raised herself up on her knees, moving closer to him so she wasn’t straining and he moved her fingers as he wished, forcing her to hold him.

She felt him pulse against her hand and she felt her cheeks light on fire. She didn’t know what she was holding but the fact it felt as if it was alive made her squirm. He dug his fingers into her wrist and she ceased, wincing as his nails tore her flesh. “S-Siddgeir.”

“Just… shut up,” he muttered, his voice shaking and she looked to him in surprise; she had never heard him sound like that. She took his advice and silenced herself making him lessen his grip. After a minute he seemed to collect himself and he moved her hand against him, showing her what to do. She only stared at the cloth covering him, letting him use her before he drew away. She was left doing it herself and she found herself having to focus, her movements sloppy against him.

She was trying hard not to grip him tight but her current movements were loose and she didn’t really understand how this was pleasurable. She actually didn’t even know what was beneath the cloth, having only heard it described when she was in the Inn asking looking for bounties and she tilted her head in curiosity, trying to see beneath it.

Her Jarl seemed to sense and he grabbed the cloth lifting it up making her stop and then squeak. She let go to cover her eyes, shocked at what… that was and he hit her making her whimper. “Are you an idiot?! What’s the matter with you!?”

“I’m sorry!” she begged in a tiny voice and she heard him begin to mutter under his breath, rubbing his temples as he sunk into his throne.

“How virginal are you?” he hissed at her and she turned as red as the fire. “Honestly, if I knew you were going to be this much of a pain I would have sent you to get some tavern whore.”

She pursed her lips at the thought. She had been at her Jarl’s side for less than a full winter and he had rarely had visitors that weren’t dignitaries and Thalmor diplomats so the thought of him seeking out a common girl sent a bit of jealously up her.

She brought her hands down, staring at his legs almost angrily and she recalled what Narri had been giggling about with a traumatized Telka. She pushed herself up on her knees, closer to him and she angrily pulled the cloth down making him stiffen.

“What are you fu-” he began to swear but she wouldn’t have it. She grabbed his damned, odd throbbing member and her mouth was on it causing his hands to grip her head, her hair getting pulled as he did. She exhaled through her nose, licking and she fought the urge to balk. This felt bad. She shook away the thoughts, trying not to gag at the salty taste on her tongue and she recalled every bit of dirty, lucid detail Narri had said, using it as she started to move.

She tried not to bite him, focused on using her saliva to make the cock in her mouth slick and easy to move up and down on and she was rewarded with a strained breath above her. She opened her eyes, looking at his stomach before closing them, deciding not to look up in case he slapped her or worse. She lapped at the tip of his member, tasting something odd and she found herself focusing on it, her hands massaging the shaft as she curiously tasted him.

Her ears began to burn as she realized she was consuming something of her Jarl and his hands moved against her skull, his fingers moving to cup her head instead of gripping it, massaging as he did making her relax. He was being gentle and it made her stomach twist, her legs shift uncomfortably.

She released her mouth from him, licking her lips as she did and finally she looked up. His jaw was clenched together rather tight but his cheeks were red and his eyes almost burning into her. She let out a breath, her lips feeling swollen and they stared at each other for a moment before she went back down, licking up his shaft lovingly. He let her without a complaint.

The more saliva she added, the slicker he got and she found her hands moving against him made a noise, her now wet palms only adding to it. She leaned against him, sucking on one side of his shaft while her fingers rubbed his leaking tip and his head fell back, his chest rising and falling, encouraging her almost. She was just happy she was doing the right thing.

She pulled away for a moment, only using her hands and she could feel him throb and shift under her. She kissed his thigh and he in turn dug his nails into her hair, tugging slightly.

“My Jarl?” she whispered and he looked down at her, teeth gritting for a second but he didn’t speak. He pulled her up, pushing her near his cock and she got the hint. She started licking him again but he applied more pressure and she realized what he wanted. She took him into her mouth, relaxing her throat and she went down on him as far as she could. She couldn’t take him fully but she was close and it made her head light.

His breath quickened the more she went up and down and she could feel him getting close to something, the way he kept pushing her an obvious indicator. She knew her point was coming to an end but the thought of tavern whores on him made her pull away, pushing his hands off her head.

He gripped the arm rest of his throne and glared at her, his chest rising rapidly. “What are you doing?”

She leaned back, just out of his grip and stared at him, panting as she did. She didn’t actually know herself but she wanted it to last now. She could taste him on her lips and seeing how desperate he was for her to get back on him made her squeeze her legs together tighter as something pulsed within herself. He moved to grab her but she slid back again, not allowing him. “My Jarl… Calm yourself.”

His fingers curled into fists and he bared his teeth at her. “You don’t command me, you stupid bitch. Get back here and finish what you started!”

She held her head up a bit, looking down on him. “I will… When you calm down.”

He looked as if he was doing to drive a dagger through her brain and she began undoing her robes, her belt being loosened so she could pull it over her head, hoping that would calm him. He didn’t get up despite his fury radiating off his body and she took it as a sign, slipping her robe off her body. She sat before him in her own undergarments, her chest rising and falling and she reached up, pulling at the strings around her neck.

He said nothing as she did but his eyes did roam her body making her flush. She let the bindings over her breasts fall away and he relaxed a bit, leaning back against his throne. She came forward, settling between his legs again and she rubbed his still erect cock, kissing the tip. He tried to push her down but she resisted, trying something different. She wasn’t that big, unlike Nord women but she tried anyways to fit him between her breasts. She had to push herself but he fit between them and she lapped at his slit, trying to please him.

He didn’t speak but his hand laced into her hair and he caressed her as if he was pleased. She felt her cheeks become warm at the action and she tried stroking him using only her breasts, eventually going back to using her hands to draw him out, sucking on the base of his cock before she frowned and touched beneath him.

He jerked. “Kjersti-!” he hissed and she found herself withdrawing.

“W-What?” she asked and he let out a sigh.

“Don’t…” he began but he ended up gritting his teeth, grabbing her hands and putting them back on his cock. “Just put your damn mouth on me. Don’t go exploring, virgin.” He emphasized the last word and she felt her tongue press against the side of her cheek.

“I wouldn’t be so virginal if you acted earlier,” she muttered and he slapped her making her whimper.

“What was that?”

She retaliated by gripping his cock and nipping at the tip, stabbing her tongue against his slit making him tense and drag his nails over the arm rest. She eventually took him fully in her mouth, feeling him pulse before she went back to lazily coating him with saliva, drawing him back to that point of breaking.

When she could feel him shake, his fingers grabbing at her body she stopped and pulled away once more. He nearly punched her but she dodged it and kept out of his reach again, panting harder than before. His ears were red, fingers white against his throne and his crown sliding down his forehead from the sweat; she in turn felt her core ache at the sight. She needed something, she was unsure of what but her Jarl was possibly the only one that could accommodate her.

But knowing him, he wouldn’t out of anger. “Siddgeir,” she breathed his name out and he glared at her, his emerald eyes making her shift under his gaze. “Beg for me.”

He stared at her. “Are you fucking mad?” he hissed. “I’m your fucking Jarl! You should be licking my boots just for the honor of being in my presence!”

She closed her mouth, keeping away from him and she repeated herself. “Beg for me, my Jarl, and I might let you… be relieved.”

“Kjersti,” he hissed her name with such malice that she began to fidget again. “Get over here. Now.”

“Beg.”

“I will do no such thing,” he bared his teeth and she gave him a hard look, trying to intimidate him back but she knew her skill in such a matter were severely lacking. “Get. Back. Here.”

“No!” she finally said in a firm voice, despite her hands now wringing together in her lap. “I… I will not! I will not be a means to an end for you for… for one night! Either beg me or… find another Thane!”

He stared at her. “What are you going on about?”

Her cheeks began to flush and she broke their eye contact. “Siddgeir… just… Beg. For me. Please.” He said nothing but his eyes were on her making her bit her lip, her confidence waning. She repeated herself. “Siddgeir… Please. Beg… just for me.”

“Kjersti.”

“I-I only want you looking at me,” she said quietly. “No whores. No tavern wenches. J-Just me.”

He sat back in his throne, looking her over and she became self-conscious, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her legs shut tight together as she throbbed. He pursed his lips.

“You’re jealous of whores?” he said with a bit of amusement. “If you had some skills then I wouldn’t mention a wench but since you’re so…” he cringed and she let out a slow breath.

“Then teach me!” she cut in with a desperate voice. “T-Teach me, Siddgeir, what you want! Let me… take your burdens. Teach me so I can… Help you.”

He said nothing and her ears burned as she looked to the stones on the floor, her chest rising and falling as her emotions started getting tangled in her mind. She heard a snapping sound making her look up and he pointed down at himself.

“Get over here,” he commanded.

“Beg.”

“No.”

She remained in her place.

“Get over here,” he said again. “And I will show you what I want.” She hesitated, looking up to him but when she didn’t move right away he bared his teeth again. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this as much as I do.”

That made her stop fidgeting somewhat. She stared at him making him growl but his words were on her mind, not her defiance. “You like it?” she breathed out and he gave her a scowl.

“Get over here.”

“Beg,” she asked one last time.

“I will have your throat cut, you stupid fucking elf,” he hissed but after a moment he stopped looking so angry and focused on her. “Kjersti. Come here. I need you.”

She knew it probably wasn’t sincere but she finally did as he commanded, coming back to rest between his legs but her eyes stayed on his. “Will you let only me be with you?”

“Don’t get all Mara’s love and marriage on me,” he muttered as his fingers went back to tangling in her black hair, giving a rough tug to remind her of her place but she reached up to hold his hand regardless. He sighed. “Just finish what I commanded you to do.”

“Siddgeir…”

He scowled at her and she merely sighed herself, reaching forward to touch him making his body stiffen. She supposed she had tortured him enough. Maybe if she did a good enough job getting him off he would reconsider.

She skipped right over teasing him and started bobbing up and down on him again, using her hand as she did making him tense underneath her. His fingers gripped her hair and she had to struggle to relax her throat more as he applied pressure, his cock nearly hitting the back of her throat. She tried taking her time but she could feel how stressed and desperate he was.

She paused only to lap at his slit, tasting him as he leaked and his nails dug into her skull. She winced and sucked on him, her hands working him furiously and he made a noise. It was strained, as if he was trying hard not to shout and he bucked into her mouth making her nearly cough.

Something filled her mouth, hot and thick and she pushed herself down, swallowing. It was salty and bitter making her shoulders shake and her throat wish to close but she sucked it down, pulling off him to hold her mouth. Whatever it was, it leaked from the corners of her mouth and she finally let out a gasp, the thick liquid dripping from her lips.

She opened her eyes to see her Jarl panting on his throne, his eyes on her in a predatory gaze. She licked her lips, moaning and he was up, his fingers pulling her mouth open. She whined as he grabbed her tongue, pulling it before he let go and stroked her cheek.

“Good girl,” he breathed out and she felt herself pulse between her legs making her shift again. Her underwear felt wet but it didn’t feel as if she had fallen into water. It was different, strange and she whimpered, reaching down finally. He watched her as she reached between herself feeling a slick, sticky wetness and her fingers pulled back to reveal them shining under the lights in the room. She looked up to him, confused and he grabbed her, kissing her with a bruising force. She instinctively opened her mouth, letting him dominate and he sat on the edge of his throne, his tongue forcing into her mouth. When they parted, she felt her head spin. 

“Siddgeir,” she whispered his name and he was on her again making her light headed and submissive. She leaned against him, letting him do as he wished and he moved off his throne, grabbing at her body possessively, his fingers brushing over her hips. She whimpered, clinging to him, her chest flat against his, her legs shaking as his grip moved down. He was so close to touching that forbidden part of her, the place where her mother had warned her never to let a man near when a noise made him jerk. The sounds of heavy boots on wooden boards made them freeze and he pushed her away, pulling his robes straight to hide himself leaving her half-naked on the floor. She grabbed her robes, pulling them on and he was in his room before she could even get up, shutting the door leaving her alone.

Above the hall a door opened and she saw Helvard walk out of his room, his eyes closed as he did. He wandered down the stairs, moving to the exit of the Longhouse and he was gone making her stare. Her body throbbed, her head was dizzy and she found herself moving into a dark corner, waiting to see if he would come back.

He did after a few minutes, adjusting himself from under his armor before he made his way back up the stairs and Kjersti bit her lip, looking to her Jarl’s door. Helvard shut his leaving her alone and after a long time when it was clear he would not come out for her, she found herself leaving and walking down the stone path back towards her abode near the lake.

Her legs shook while she walked, her chest tight and her lips swollen but she knew what was going to happen. They would not speak of this and if they did, she would possibly be expelled from the court for a set amount of time. It made her heart heavy, her emotions confused but she soldiered on. When she finally got home she found Rayya sleeping upstairs, her sword in her hand and she smiled before taking to her bed.

It took more than a while for her body to stop yearning for her Jarl’s touch, even after she closed her eyes and imagined he did.

She didn’t return to Falkreath for a while after, sticking to trying to lead the lifestyle her mother wanted while slaughtering the bandits in the hillside when provoked. Her housecarl seemed happy that she was home and she did enjoy the time she spent at her house, building items and arranging furniture but she continued to pine for him. 

It was only after she did some cleaning and found a pile of armor and swords she needed to sell did she return to Falkreath. Lod was happy to see her and Salof was well-mannered but other than that the town still seemed the same as if it didn’t miss her and she hesitated at the Longhouse when she approached it. She peeked in, just to sate her urge to see him and she found the hall empty.

She entered, curious. She didn’t hear Helvard or Nenya or even Legate Skulnar and she began to search the rooms. When she came to her Jarl’s, she was nearly knocked back as he exited and she clutched her chest, breathing hard in shock. Siddgeir stared at her but did not approach her, keeping a distance while his eyes locked on her.

“S-Siddgeir,” she breathed out before realizing her inappropriate manner. “My Jarl. What are you doing? W-Why are you not on your throne?”

He said nothing as he glared at her and she sighed. She could feel a lecture coming on or perhaps a slap but he did neither. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him and his mouth was on hers making her freeze in shock before she melted against him. She clutched his arms, struggling to stand and he broke, forcing her off making her stagger.

“Don’t get clingy,” he snapped. “And where have you been? My treasury is lacking! The armory needs to be restocked!”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl,” she said in a shaky voice, her head light and her cheeks on fire. He scowled at her.

“I only kissed you. Pull yourself together,” he said as he disappeared back into his room, grabbing a bottle of mead off the small table within. “What are you going to act like when I take you? You better not faint.”

She felt her breath hitch and her heart pound at a dangerous level. “T-Take me?”

He pushed past her, moving to his throne. “You wanted to sate my desires, did you not? Then you are mine. And you will be taught to do as I wish,” he said in a casual voice as if he was talking a business transaction. Kjersti held her cheeks, feeling how hot they were as her heart moved into her throat. “Understand?”

“My Jarl…” she whispered and she slowly made his way to his feet, bowing deep before him which made him scoff and use her as a foot stool. She did not protest and kept her head hung down. “Siddgeir… I…”

“Don’t get emotional or romantic,” he spat. “You’re a possession. Like a wife. You are not equal with me and I will give you no affection unless you earn it, do you understand?”

Her fingers touched his legs, moving up them, over his knees until they rested on his thighs. She felt his breath tighten a bit, his grip on the bottle of mead almost at a point of shattering it and she rested her head in his lap, bowing to him.

“I won’t disappoint you, my Lord.”

He set the bottle of mead down on her head. “See that you don’t, Thane.


	41. Kids (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Not gonna lie, my beautiful Anons, I have a really, really huge kink for someone getting incredibly wound up by the LI, only for the LI force them to masturbate while LI watches. Only, for whatever reason, they can't orgasm without LI's assistance, so eventually they're reduced to a begging, quivering mass when LI finally indulges them. Obviously this prompt kind of demands a more of a dommy!LI, but I'm cool with pretty much anybody with anybody.

She wiped the sweat from her brow as she slipped the strip of hot steel into the trough of water, the steam rising making her sweat more and she turned the melted mineral over, watching the hot fire slowly cool into a smooth black. She kept it in still, knowing how looks could be deceiving and she draped the piece against the edge of the trough, going to fetch some fire salts to toss into her forge. The ashes cracked, the heat nearly blistering and she breathed out, wiping at the sweat on her body.

She needed to mend a few more strips together before it could even be shaped into a blade. The thought made her a bit happy, the making of a weapon rather satisfying and she pulled at another piece that was being licked by the flames, the tongs she wore nearly making it slip when a slamming noise drew her gaze up. Rayya came from the front of the cellar looking out of breath as she did and Kjersti straightened, letting go of the steel to show she was paying attention. Rayya breathed out.

“My Thane, you must come outside at once.”

“What’s wrong?!” she asked immediately, grabbing the steel sitting in the water as quick as she could to rest it against the edges, moving to her Housecarl. She merely shook her head and ushered her out. Kjersti didn’t spare any time, hanging up her apron and hiking up her dress as she ascended the stairs and she waited for Rayya before following her out to the entrance of her home, the light blinding her for a second. She quickly descended the steps, looking to the sky for a dragon or other beast when a horse letting out a whinny drew her to the stables.

A person was standing before it, their back to her with a light green cloak on and she frowned looking to her Housecarl who exhaled, her steps slow as she went to the stranger. “My Lord,” she said and the figure turned making Kjersti stop, sweat dripping from her chin.

“S-Siddgeir?!” she sputtered, staring at her Jarl who gave her a look of distaste before turning back to his horse. “M-My Jarl! My Jarl, what are you doing here!? What’s happened!? Is there something wrong?!”

She rushed to his side, panic starting to fill her and he merely ignored her, tightening his horses’ reins on the hook, giving its nose a pat. He gave her a once over, his nose wrinkling and he finally spoke. “You smell disgusting.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fidgeting coming back as she waited for an explanation. Behind her Rayya stood as well, unnerved with her hand on her blade. He pulled back the hood of his cloak, looking to her house and Kjersti gaped at him.

“My Lord, where is your crown?”

“At the Longhouse,” he drawled, uninterested. She fidgeted even more, confused on why he was here. “This is what you’ve done with my land? I’m obviously not taxing you enough if you can afford such lavish things.”

She sighed, closing her eyes as she tried to calm herself. It took a few moments to stop her heart from practically exploding and she tried again, bowing slightly to his figure. “My Jarl, please. What brings you here? Do you need my assistance?”

He said nothing and she remained still, begging the gods to make him answer at least one question when his cloak was thrown over her head making her stagger. She pulled it off looking to him and he was in simple clothes… like a peasant. It made her worry even more, her heart racing, the thoughts of a coup or the war hitting their town when he yawned.

“There’s… some guests that arrived that I really do not wish to deal with,” he stated, walking down the hill, eyes on her manor. “So, I left.”

She stared at him. “Y-You left?”

He waved his hand, brushing her off. “Nenya can deal with them. I’m not in the mood to entertain fools from Solitude. It’s a waste of my time,” he commented and he stopped at the steps to her home, finger running over some of the carved details. “Did you do this?”

“I did it,” Rayya said and he looked at her, quiet. He said nothing more, opening the doors and Kjersti gave Rayya a stressed look before following her Jarl inside. Her housecarl stayed back, slowly patrolling the perimeter again and she followed him as he stared at her manor’s entrance. His eyes ran over the trophies she had mounted and he looked at her.

“Isn’t this a bit… overkill?” he commented and she flushed. “Where did you even get the pelts? You haven’t been skimming my payments, have you?”

“I get them from hunters in the area,” she sighed at him, slowly folding his cloak to hang over the small table near the door. “My Jarl, please. You know I pay you more than enough.”

He didn’t comment but she hoped it was in agreement and not him considering to raise her taxes. He strode into the main hall, looking up to the second floor and she followed behind, becoming more aware of how her manor made her seem like she had endless wealth. She began to fuss, worrying and he walked over to a chest, leaning down to open it. It squeaked as he did and part of the hinge came off making him look to her. She turned a bright pink. “I-I made that.”

“Yes, I can tell,” he said, letting the lid drop back down before moving to her bedroom, peering inside. His eyes immediately went to the two beds at the north end. “Why do you have children’s beds?” She didn’t meet his gaze this time, quiet and he stared at her. “Really? You wish to have some brats?!”

“Siddgeir…” she finally protested. “Please… Do you come to just insult me all day?”

He didn’t seem pleased by her speaking out but he said no more, leaving her bedroom. He went into the kitchen, opening a few drawers before he took one of the boiled crème treats from the top of the oven, biting into it before he relaxed in one of the chairs in the main hall. She came to his side, unsure of what to do and he waved her off. “You can go back to… whatever in oblivion you were doing.”

She hesitated and remained, quiet as he ate. He gave her a look. “You can go. I’m only here in hiding and I don’t wish to have you hover over me all afternoon. I get enough of that when you’re damned well doing nothing at the Longhouse.”

She pursed her lips but after contemplating she slowly moved away from him, going back to the cellar. It didn’t seem right to her, leaving him and she changed her mind, moving back to his side. He glared at her. “It’s not right for me to leave you alone all day.”

“…Oh for the fucking eight divines,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Kjersti…”

“I-It’s bad hosting!” she pointed out and he leaned against the table, chin resting in his palm as he stared at her in irritation. She fidgeted and awkwardly stood, realizing the mess she was in; her hands began twisting her robes, her mind overworking when he stood, his eyes level with hers.

“What were you doing before I came?”

She almost forgot, her mind so muddled and she thought for a second. “I was crafting a blade.”

“Where?” he said, looking over her shoulder and she stepped back, moving so he could see down the hall to where the entrance to the cellar was.

“In the cellar.”

His eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” he asked. “A fire underneath a wooden house?”

“I built a ventilation system,” she said automatically, knowing how that did sound. She needed a forge, one that wouldn’t douse every day and when her and Rayya finally decided there was no other place but the cellar they had tried to tackle such a problem beforehand. She actually felt a bit proud and her nervousness melted a little. “I can show you, my Jarl, if you wish?”

He still gave her a look as if he was judging her but he relented. “Fine.”

She took the lead, moving to open the cellar door for him to go down. At least with him near her she wouldn’t be so worried about him being unprotected – and possibly rooting through her things. She had a small stash of jewels she knew he would take if he found it and the thought made her nerves itch a little. As long as he didn’t go poking around in the barrels of the room she stored her weapons, she should be fine.

He waited for her as she descended, her having to relight a scone on the wall after she did and she brought him to her forge, showing him and he continued to look disinterested making her flush. He moved to checking in her safes and she found herself pursing her lips.

“Why do you have thirty iron ingots in here?” he asked, pulling one out. “These things are useless.”

“I need them for crafting armor and building materials,” she replied as she fetched her apron, tying it around her body. “They’re the more useful mineral I come across.”

“What about gold?” he drawled.

“Not enough veins around to make anything.”

He dug through another, pulling out a few quicksilver ingots and one of moonstone before he shut the doors, leaning against the wall as he watched her. She went back to work, silently showing him what she was doing and she placed the now cool steel strip to the side, working the one that was still glowing in the fire, the heat making her sweat once again. The fire was dying a bit, the ashes nearly filling it to the top and she had to grab a small hoe, moving them from the heart of the fire, fetching wood to toss into it along with a sprinkle of fire salts.

Her Jarl said nothing as he watched, his eyes on her the entire time and she found herself getting used to it, becoming absorbed again in her work. She worked the bellows, the flames becoming hot and robust just as they were before and she coughed a little as she had to work more steel, the strip turning to a bright white that signalled she could meld it. She brought it to the anvil, hammering away at it until she could fold it over, the piece being put back into the fire.

The strip she had been working on before was brought back, her eyes on it as she judged it by the light and she tossed it back into the fire, hoping to burn off the impurities. It would make the handle of the sword, the steel too short now for any other use and she felt something drip down her cheek, rubbing with her forearm to once again show she was sweating.

She looked to her Jarl, his body still lax but she could see around his collar the heat was bothering him. She went to behind the smelter, pushing on a few stone blocks and light flooded the corner of the cellar, the hot air and steam moving out. It felt wonderful on her skin, like she had the wind hitting it and she went back to him, smiling as she did.

He continued looking expressionless but his shoulders were sagging in relief. She went back to her steel, molding it again.

It took four more times hammering and bending the metal to make the shape of a sword and she had to constantly run to stoke the forge as she did, the ventilation in the cellar not helping keep it hot enough despite being needed. Her Jarl stood by the entire time, silent, his eyes constantly watching and when she held up the shaping form he merely pursed his lips making her give out an awkward laugh. She finally stopped for the day, leaving the metal in the forge and she came to his side, taking off her apron as she did.

“It will take a bit longer, a few weeks, but once it’s done then you can have another weapon for the armory?” she smiled at him, wiping her brow with her forearm and he looked to her, unimpressed. She tried not to take it to heart and looked back at the forge. “I-I mean, I know this isn’t my specialty, e-enchanting is, but since there’s an abundance of material in Falkreath and the armory needs to be restocked I thought if I made some things-”

His mouth was against her ear and she stopped speaking, her voice becoming caught in her throat as her entire body tensed. He moved, flattening her against the wall and his teeth pulled at her earlobe making her let out a short hiss, her legs shaking. Her ears were weak – he knew that – and he nipped at them, fingers moving down as he groped her from under the thin fabric of the tunic she wore casually, the sensations firing off signals to her brain. She fidgeted and whined as he licked near the tip of her ear and she tried to push him off, embarrassed. “S-Siddgeir!”

He shoved her against the wall, standing over her slightly. “What.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat as their eyes met, his dark green ones boring into hers and she timidly gripped his arms. “W-Why?”

He leaned back down, sucking on the tip of her ear and she squirmed, fire filling her lower torso and the sweat on the back of her neck seeming to increase. “I feel like it, that’s why.”

She felt her legs give way and she fell down against the earthen floor, shivering as he stood above her, her hands moving to touch her ears. He pried them away, knelt before her and he pushed her against the ground and he tackled the other one, licking behind her ear making her whine. He pushed her legs open, fitting between them and the fire of her forge couldn’t compare to how hot the blush on her face became, her thighs trying to press together in desperation. His teasing was becoming too much, her nerves tingling and her breath starting to become more rapid and he reached down to push her tunic up, exposing her legs making her yelp and try and push the hem back down.

He bit her ear and she let out a cry and stopped. “Don’t get modest.”

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged, his bare hands running down her legs and he pulled away to stare at her, his eyes still dark and unreadable making her whimper. “M-My Jarl…”

He gripped her tunic, pushing until it was bundled around her waist and his eyes flicked down making her flush. He stared at her. “Where’s your undergarments?”

“I-I got too hot earlier…” she whispered, her ears burning and he let go of the edge of the fabric, an eyebrow raising. She covered her face in embarrassment. ‘I-I didn’t think – or know – this was going t-to happen!”

He said nothing and she squirmed, trying to close her legs despite him being between them and he reached up, undoing the laces around her collar. She grabbed his fingers, realizing what he was doing and he slapped her away, pulling hard on the strings in response. His force ripped the holes, the neckline stretching and she bit her lip as he realized that was easier and tore the tunic, exposing down almost to the valley of her breasts.

She stared at her dress, her chest rising and falling. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he muttered and she looked at him, gaping, the thought not even in her head. “What?”

She bit her lip, looking at him with pleading eyes and he sighed, knowing what her problem was. She was always uncomfortable about her chest, especially since the women of Falkreath seemed so well endowed while she ran along the lines of being as flat as a ten year old boy. He had made a comment about it once, when she first was trying to become his Thane, and it weighed on her ever since.

He reached down, squeezing her small breasts and she whimpered, grabbing his left wrist to try and stop him, her grip uneasy. “S-Siddgeir, it’s fine. Just please, d-don’t expose me.”

He breathed out, irritated. “You stupid elf,” he muttered and she flushed. “Fine.”

He still ripped the neckline, her shoulders becoming exposed as if to remind her who was in charge but he didn’t go further, taking to loosening the corset instead. Once it became slack around her body he reached under her collar, his fingers feeling her flesh and she whimpered. She was hot from the forge and even though his touch was warm, it felt cool against her making her squirm, the roughness of his fingertips not helping. He toyed with her, squeezing her left breast and she arched, biting her lip.

He kissed her ear again, his free hand moving to stroke her thigh and she cried out against the assault of sensations, not able to focus as he teased the different parts of her. The hand on her thigh was so close to her sex, purposely not touching it while still stroking near and he roughly played with her breast, his tongue on her ear.

She bucked, gripping the hem of her dress, twisting it as he abused her. “Siddgeir… My Jarl, please!”

“What?” he growled and she panted, shifting towards him. She let go of her dress, gripping at his tunic and he glared at her making her become even more desperate. She kissed his neck, feeling him swallow and began licking at his collar, tasting his skin, her arms wrapping around him. Her kisses trailed up his jaw, his stubble against her lips and he let go of her, gripping her waist to pull her up, their eyes level again. 

She breathed out, her fingers tensing against him and he broke their gaze, looking to her lips. She immediately licked them in response and gave him free reign, leaning into his touch, allowing herself to be roughly pushed against the wall. Her forge behind them cracked, her dress riding up more and his fingers went dragging down her body, rubbing and groping making her gasp against his lips. He continued to silence her with his tongue pushing into her mouth.

She never got used to his touch, how he could be delicate or forceful, his fingers grazing over her thighs, cupping her back making her shiver. “Siddgeir, please…” she whimpered.

“Now what,” he hissed against her lips and she rolled her hips against him, a hand moving down his chest to his stomach. He grabbed it before it went further, his breath shaking and she kissed his bottom lip. “I doubt you’re ready.”

“Then make me,” she begged and he exhaled, his gaze making her heart beat against her ribs and he let go of her wrist, his hand moving down to between her legs, fingers brushing her sex. She jerked to his touch, not used to it and his other hand went to her throat, steadying her as he did it again, pushing between her folds making her pant. “Siddgeir,” she groaned.

His thumb pressed against her pulse, the throbbing causing her to gasp, making her light headed and he leaned down, kissing her to cause her even more dizziness. She gripped his arms, arching and he pulled away, his fingers not moving making whimper. “Please…”

“No,” he growled, putting more pressure on her throat. She dug her nails into his forearm, silently pleading and his fingers below moved, teasing her. They rubbed light circles against her folds, enough to make her fidget but not give any sense of release. It was feather-light, purposeful and she spread her legs more trying to draw him in. He refused, pulling back when she did and she groaned as his mouth met hers, her desperately kissing him until he gave way a little bit, giving her long strokes with his fingers.

She fell into them, rubbing back and she panted heavily from below as she thrust against his fingers, her head hitting his shoulder as she did. He adjusted her, her spread legs against his lap and she clung to his body, sucked on his collarbone as he worked her with his hands making her melt and whimper for him. She could feel his hardness against her making her own body shake with need and she looked to him, wondering if this time he would indulge and take her as he had muttered so many times before when they got their hands on each other.

She gripped his collar and lovingly licked his throat, sucking below his adam’s apple making him groan. His fingers sped up, rubbing hard at the start of her pussy and she bucked, feeling the heat within her increase. She knew she was getting wet, her fingers dragging over his skin, her kisses becoming more loose and passionate and he met her back, her neck becoming marked with his teeth, his other hand pulling at her now erect nipples under her thin dress.

“Siddgeir!” she begged into his ear, knowing she was ready to come and he bit her earlobe, pulling hard before he shoved her to the earth making her cry out. His hand withdrew and she nearly fought him to make it go back, one slap to her forehead stopping it.

“Calm yourself,” he growled and she lay before him, disoriented, aching and breathing hard just as she had many times before. She bit her lip, shaking, wanting to cry when he grabbed her wrist moving it down. “Show me, Thane.”

She exhaled, confused.

“Get yourself off before me.”

She licked her drying lips, her brain processing the words and a harsh blush came over her, her hands moving to cover herself. He slapped them away and she jerked at his touch, suddenly aware of where she was.

“Siddgeir, I…”

“I don’t have all day,” his voice was low, rough and she broke their gaze, her cheeks turning red. He pushed her tunic up more, his fingers lightly touching her stomach and she finally relented, grabbing the hem to bundle against her chest as she had no choice but to reach down. Her fingers shook, the thought embarrassing and he shifted above her, watching intently. She had only really touched herself twice in her life, once out of curiosity which her mother had beaten her for and the other time…

…Was when her Jarl had gotten her so worked up she didn’t know what to do. She still didn’t, actually and hadn’t relieved herself the last time; she pulled her dress up, biting the hem as she gingerly touched herself, her fingers feeling how wet she was. A shiver ran up her, her cheeks flushing and she shut her eyes, trying to imagine he was still touching her.

Slowly she started to move, sliding her index and middle finger up and down between her folds and she let out a shaky sigh. “Siddgeir…” he didn’t respond and she adjusted, spreading her legs wider, her teeth gripping the edge of her dress tight. “S-Siddgeir…”

He reached down, his fingers against hers and he curled them, taking her wrist to show her how to move and she imitated him, her ears burning as she did. She didn’t look to him, too ashamed to, but she could feel his eyes on her, locked on her moving fingers. It made her speed up the pace, knowing that her little forced exhibition was for him.

She shifted again, her back more against the floor and she hooked a leg over his hip, angling so he could see as she stroked herself, her eyes fighting between trying to see and clenching shut. The sensation was strange as her fingers were smooth and like glass. They weren’t as pleasant as her Jarl’s as his were rough and calloused from the bow he took hunting, the different feeling noticeable to her body. Her fingers and hands were small like that of a child’s while his were significantly larger and she could feel the loss, almost having to add a third one.

She still tried, arching her back as she stroked herself harder but the feeling he caused was not being achieved by her own and she eventually let out moans of frustration, rubbing her fingers in a circle hoping it would help. It only caused her more tension and frustration and she twisted under him, trying to find some release. “Siddgeir-!”

He let out a hard breath in response and she opened her eyes to see him, his eyes moving to see hers. “I-I can’t. Please! I-I need you to do it…”

“What?” he growled and she tried to grab his hand but he pulled it back.

“I can’t do it, I need you..”

He did nothing and she leaned up on her forearms, pleading with her eyes. “Siddgeir, please. Please, please touch me!”

“I give you an order and you cannot follow it?” he said in a dark tone and she twisted her dress in her hands.

“You feel better… Your fingers…” He glared at her and she exhaled, shaking below him. “Gods, Siddgeir, please!”

“No.”

She let out a cry of frustration and grabbed at him in utter desperation. He pinned her down, ignoring her bucking and she began begging his name, whispering it blindly. “Siddgeir, Siddgeir please, please not this time, please let me come once…”

“No,” he breathed against her ear and she moaned, shaking as her pent up desire made her squirm under him like a salmon out of water. “Why should I?”

“I’ll do anything,” she begged; pleaded; bargained. “Anything, my Jarl, gods, anything!”

He said nothing, his own breath coming out a bit hard against hers and he let go of one of her wrists to grab her breast, kneading it roughly making her whimper. “Siddgeir, please! Please! Once, just please!”

“Beg,” he hissed and she nearly thrashed, rolling her hips against him, her free hand scratching at his forearm.

“Siddgeir! PLEASE!” she stressed. “I need you! Let me come!”

“More,” he demanded, his body raising so she couldn’t rub and she nearly sobbed in frustration. She was throbbing, dripping, her muscles and skin screaming as the hot forge behind her fueled the sweat and need on her body, her hair sticking to her neck and cheeks and she arched her back.

“My Jarl! PLEASE! Own me!” she shouted, kicking at the ground and he let go of her breast to immediately relieve her, her back arching even more as his fingers met her throbbing skin. She bucked, still begging, his strokes controlled and forceful as he rubbed, spreading her as he did and she twisted below him, her head hitting the wall, his mouth on her neck kissing it, marking her golden skin.

She could feel a finger move to the opening in her body, slipping in and she jerked, confused. It kept going, delving deeper with ease and she whined, her fingers pulling at the dirt that made up her floor. She never had anything inside her, the feeling alien and strange and he growled against her as she tried to get away, his other hand digging into her sides. “Relax.”

“Siddgeir!” she cried out, her eyes falling shut and his thumb stroked over something that made her buck, the fire increasing in her stomach once again. He did it a second time making her hips jerk, her voice moan and she rode the feeling as he teased her with it, her throat becoming dry from the amount of moaning she was making.

The finger inside her moved, thrusting in and out and she let it, biting the hem of her dress again, whimpering at the sensations being applied to her once more. Whatever his thumb was teasing, the feeling of him in her, how she felt as if she was going insane; she bucked back to contribute, begging for him not to leave. She needed it, needed whatever was going to come and relieve her of her burdens and his mouth was once again against her ear, kissing.

She jerked hard, her nails grabbing his shoulders as she did and she let out high cries as her body tightened, her toes curling as something euphoric tempted her within her mind. She let go of the hem of her dress. “Siddgeir! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

His fingers moved more rapidly, a second entering her body and she rode it, her legs spreading wide as she did. “Yes! Yes! Oh gods, yes! Please! Please don’t stop! Please don’t stop! Siddgeir! Please!”

He bit the tip of her ear and she cried out, tensing around him. His thumb put pressure against something that made her scream become louder, her hips bucking wildly no longer controlled by her mind and she finally was hit with a type of release, her body shaking. She rode it, gasping as she did and she felt like she had been thrown into the Sea of Ghosts after being lit on fire, the feeling of relief, accomplishment and utter mercy falling over her.

She could hear Siddgeir’s breath in her ear, his strained and dark and she buried her head against him, moaning his name as she still clung to the feeling, her sex soon feeling exhausted and lewd. He stroked her a few more times until she was whimpering, the sounds of his fingers withdrawing wet and sloppy and she held him to her, her heart still pounding as she did. He moved, pushing off her for a second and she settled on the floor, her cheeks flush and sweat sticking to every crease in her body.

He avoided her gaze, reaching between his legs and she watched him pull his tunic up, a low groan coming from his throat as his hand began to move. She fell back, panting and shivering as she did and she covered her chest, her body slowly coming down from the high she had experienced. He struggled above her, his fingers digging slightly into the dirt and after a few moments she felt something hit her stomach and thighs, his release obvious.

She whimpered from below and caught him once he was done, her arms around his neck. She tried cuddling with him, kissing him innocently while he struggled with his breath and he shoved her off, sitting beside her. He finally ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back and she turned on her side, curling slightly.

“Siddgeir…?”

He looked down at her, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Thank you.”

He glared at her, his attitude coming back and she closed her eyes, slowly feeling herself go back to normal, a bit of shame rising in her as it did. She pulled her tunic down, covering herself and she tried to lace up the strings across her chest but it was impossible with some of the holes torn. She thought of Rayya, if her poor housecarl had heard and she quietly prayed to the divines to not let that be the case. She already had a hard enough time explaining herself to the Redguard woman when she was late on account of Siddgeir without getting into how they just… did that.

He began to stand and she followed suit, her legs shaking as she did. “I’m going to lie down,” he announced and she nodded, starting to follow when he stopped her. “I don’t want you coming.”

“W-Why?” she asked, breathless and he scowled at her.

“Because you’re too clingy already, elf! Give me some damn space!” he spat and she stared at him, shocked before a familiar sigh filled her head. She nodded, giving him a bow and he grumbled as he made his way back to the cellar entrance leaving her alone with her forge and various odds and ends. She limped back to the other room, looking to where they had been and she kicked the dirt a little to make sure it blended, the imprint of their bodies distinctively seen in the soil.

She winced, feeling herself ache a bit, his ministrations not being gentle and she reached between herself feeling the fluid. She was wet, sticky, shamed and hating to admit it was turning her on so she grabbed the steel rods in the forge, working on one that wasn’t close to being finished. She didn’t care, anything to get her mind off of what she did and she found herself repeating the process of hammering and folding the metal to the point it was a lump. She tossed it in the fire hitting her forehead as she did.

She began to wonder if there really was anyone from Solitude at Falkreath or if her Jarl had come with intentions to try and bed her. She put it out of her mind, not wishing to think if they had gone further.


	42. The Sticks (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Let's have some first time sex between two lovers. That's it. They can be virgins or not. Anyone and any race is welcome. Newly married couples, femslash, slash, crackships *cough*Ancano/Mirabelle*cough* and so forth.
> 
> This was initially supposed to be drunk sex after a celebration but it got changed to this.

She sat upon her horse, her robes hiked up to around her waist with her long cloak hiding her legs, her face flushed at how exposed she was. Beside her, her Jarl mounted his stead, the black stallion stomping on the stones, shaking its head impatiently. He scowled, kicking the animal.

“Oh, behave you stupid beast,” he growled and Kjersti frowned at him. Below his steward gave him a look.

“Siddgeir, don’t abuse your only horse,” she said and he glared at her. “Are you ready?”

“My bow and quiver?” he spit at her and she sighed, rubbing her temples. She turned to the guard near the longhouse and he looked to the barracks, obviously uncomfortable under the Altmer’s gaze. They waited, the stallion impatient just like his owner and Kjersti’s mare snorted at them, focusing on sniffing at the old goat who lay next to the fence that ran alongside the Longhouse. 

Kjersti sighed, pulling her cloak around her legs more. “Why can I not wear riding gear?” she asked and her Jarl shot her a look making her tense.

“If I were you,” he growled. “I’d learn to hold my tongue. You wear what I tell you, you damned elf.”

“Yes my Jarl,” she immediately replied without thinking, her face still flushed as she pulled her cloak again. He began tapping his fingers on the saddle, irritated and even Nenya began pacing in impatience, the sun beginning to rise above the treeline, clouds slowly moving in from the east. Finally a soldier came from the barracks, carrying a glass bow and a multitude of arrows with him making the steward relax.

He ran to give it to the Jarl who glared at him. “What took you so long, you fool?”

“Sorry, my Jarl!” the man bowed and he strapped the quiver to his back, hooking the bow on after. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“No,” he waved him off. “Get out of here. Go watch the gate or something.”

The soldier bowed, frantic and Nenya turned to him, sighing. “Siddgeir, don’t order the soldiers around. Now are you all set? Are you sure you won’t be needing any of the men to accompany you?”

“No, we’re fine I suppose,” he brushed her off and he looked to his Thane making her shift on her saddle, sitting tall. “Though, if something goes wrong and I die, you have permission to kill her. Preferably by drawing and quartering her.”

Nenya sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Siddgeir. Just stay to the roads and don’t go after anything you can’t handle.”

He glared at her. “Are you challenging my skill?”

“Of course not! Siddgeir, this isn’t a contest! Just make it back and don’t act rashly!”

“Why should I listen to you?!” he snapped at her, the tension between them thickening. “If I know I can kill it, I will!”

Kjersti sighed. “M-My Jarl, please.”

He turned on her, his green eyes flashing and she stiffened, closing her mouth and looking forward. “Oh, you shut up. You better protect me, girl, otherwise I will see you hanged.”

“Yes, my Jarl.”

“Oh, for the divines, will you just leave then if you won’t listen to rational thinking?!” Nenya snapped at him. “Go! Go hunting!”

He turned on her, their eyes connecting making his stallion snort and Kjersti’s own mare started to become nervous. She pulled at the reins, moving closer to her Jarl. “S-Siddgeir, we should go.”

He said nothing, still glaring at Nenya but he pulled on his horse’s reins, snapping it to make a hard left, turning towards the gate that led to west. “We’ll speak when I get back,” he shouted at her from over his shoulder, kicking his horse in the ribs making it throw its head back and begin to rush down the stones. His Thane followed suit, waving to Nenya as she took off after him, her cloak whipping back exposing her legs.

She tried to hide herself as she ran past the Inn where Narri and Bolund stood, nearly running into a guard as she did but it was useless and she prayed to the divines that she didn’t expose herself to them, her mare rushing to catch up with her Jarl as he galloped down the road. He slowed a bit, looking over his shoulder and she came up beside him, flushing. He looked down at her legs making her wish she was dead before nodding, turning his stallion down a path into the forest.

She protested but it was lost to his ears and her mare followed after his stallion, breaking through the thicket to run through the trees. The forest was thick, dark firs and lodge poles tangling together to create an eerie emerald world around them and it seemed as if Arkay’s seasonal influence was lost, light shining through the canopy but it was not warm or inviting.

His stallion slowed down, moving into a haughty trot as it stomped over the thick moss and her mare took to the edge, walking where there was no sinkholes or mud. Kjersti found herself pushing branches away from herself, shrubs suddenly taking over the path and she finally called out to her Jarl. “Siddgeir? Where are we going?!”

He halted his stallion, seeming to be lost himself and he pulled out a map making her stare; he never used a map. The southern forest of Falkreath was so well known to him that he could tell her about things and places she hadn’t even found. He looked over his shoulder. “Turn around!”

“What?” she said and he glared at her.

“Turn your beast around! Or get it out of my way!” he snapped and she obeyed, tugging the reins to make her poor mare turn, the horse not appreciating the sudden change. She moved to the side, allowing him once he had gotten his unruly stallion reversed to take the lead again and the black stallion went back towards where they had come.

He stopped the beast, looking at his map and he forced it to take a left, breaking through the trees making her follow and get hit with the branches afterwards. She winced, ducking, wishing she had on leather bracers or something other than her thin robes as they bushwhacked and finally they got into thinner brush, the stallion beginning to trot again with her mare rushing to follow suit.

They crossed a creek, the smell of rotting logs that were caught in it making Kjersti frown and they took an old elk path up a hill, the ground becoming hard and easy to navigate when it dropped off into a mess of dark trees. She frowned as she stared at them, the place feeling foreboding but her Jarl went forth, unhooking his bow to slap at the branches and break through them. She followed suit, yelping when a branch nearly knocked the hood of her robes off but when she broke free she gasped. He halted his stallion, sighing as he did, flicking broken branches off his body and her mare stepped forth looking around at the grotto they were in.

“Siddgeir,” she gasped, watching butterflies dance around a ring of flowers lining the woods, the grass soft with moss and light streaming in through the canopy above them. “It’s beautiful.”

He merely took the tip of an arrow and stabbed his map, folding it to shove back in the knapsack tied to the saddle and he dismounted. “I knew this place was around here somewhere,” he muttered, unhooking his bow to hang on the saddle before pulling his horse’s reins, leading the stallion to a large tree to be tied. The beast shook its mane, calmer now that it was in a peaceful area.

“How did you find this place?” she asked, still entranced and he walked over to her horse, grabbing it by the halter to lead it towards his stallion.

“Give me the reins,” he ordered and she did, handing them to him as she continued to look around. “Some hunters mentioned it years ago. Used to be a place where the cow elk would come during the winter to hide but the herd has moved on leaving this.”

She smiled, thanking the divines and he slapped her bare leg making her jerk. “Are you going to get down?”

“U-Uh, yes,” she sputtered and she began to slip off as she normally did but her robes made it more difficult and she nearly fell off, shouting as she did. He caught her, grabbing her in a bridal style to haul off and her cloak caught on the horn. “S-Siddgeir!”

“Bother, woman, this is why you get slapped!” he snapped and he ripped at the clasp around her neck, freeing herself but making him stagger, his hands grabbing her to prevent her from falling more. She clung to his neck, yelping before she realized what she was doing. Her eyes met his, her chest rising and falling rapidly and he glared at her before dropping her making her shout again. “Idiot!”

“I-I’m sorry!” she said from the forest floor, her hands pushing her up as she brushed herself off. He went back to his stallion, fumbling with the knapsack and she flushed, turning the other direction to walk into the clearing. The air smelled clean, a hint of pine needles and the rain that had come by the night before, her lungs filling with it.

He came up beside her, tossing a folded up blanket on the ground making her look. He dropped his knapsack and stared at her until she began to fidget. “Spread the blanket out, you idiot!” he demanded and she stiffened but got to work, not realizing that was what he wanted. She pulled the leather straps off, unfolding the forest green sheet out and she tossed it in the air, letting it gracefully fall down and cover the moss below. He began kicking off his boots and she looked to him, confused.

“Siddgeir?”

“What.”

“What are we doing here?” she asked and he pulled at the clasp on his neck, undoing the black furs that adorned his shoulders, not speaking. “…My Jarl?”

He began tugging off his robes making her flush and she grabbed the waist of her robes, fidgeting. He tossed his clothes down, now only in his light tunic and loose trousers and she stared at the trees, flushing. “Kjersti.”

She swallowed, fidgeting even more at her name.

“Get undressed.”

She didn’t move, the back of her neck feeling hot as she stood. “I-I thought… we were hunting…”

“I changed my mind,” he said, stepping towards her making her shift. “Take that stupid dress off.”

She finally looked to him, her eyes searching his and a bit of dread began to fill her. “Are we…?” she swallowed the lump in her throat and he scowled at her. “We’re not… going to…?” He raised a brow at her and she pursed her lips.

“Fuck?” he said in a crass tone and she looked away, embarrassed. “…Yes, I do suppose it’s time you fully bend to me like you should.”

“Oh gods,” she exhaled. “Oh, divines above…”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” he muttered, slapping her thigh. “Get that dress off! Do not make me say it again or else you will ride back to Falkreath naked!”

She immediately began tugging them over her head, flushing as she did and she dropped the thin robes next to her, her arms crossing over her chest immediately. He came to stand before her, looking down and she pressed her thighs together, her head light. He grabbed one of her hands trying to pry it away from her breast but she refused, bending over when he dug his nails in. “Siddgeir, please!”

He scoffed. “Gods, you’re strange you know that? Fine!” he snapped and his hand dove down to her panties making her tense, her hands leaving her chest to grab at his. “I guess I’ll just focus somewhere else.”

“S-Siddgeir!” she pleaded, gasping as his fingers dragged over her sex, possessively grabbing her before his fingertips massaged her through the fabric. She fell against him, letting out a loud pant and he reached up to grip her throat with his free hand, pressing his thumb against her pulse. “My Jarl-!”

“What now?” he muttered and she whimpered, her legs shaking as he stood above her making her swallow, his grip uncomfortable. He loosened it for a moment, his hand trailing up so his thumb could press against her lips and she parted them for him, waiting.

He kicked her legs out and she screamed as she fell down onto the blanket before her. “Don’t think whining my name will get you the upper hand, Kjersti.”

“I-I wasn’t-!” she gasped, flushing as he began pulling his tunic up.

“Whatever. Now service me, as you should,” he said and she fidgeted, tucking her hair back behind her ears, her legs pressing together mourning the loss of his fingers. But she didn’t move, not immediately. “Before I die, Thane.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she replied and she finally got up on her shaking knees, pushing his tunic up as she obeyed his command. She was more than familiar with his cock now, having been extensively taught to know what he liked and she wetted her lips, kissing the tip. He breathed from above, a hand moving to tangle in her hair and she took him into her mouth, feeling him harden. She moved, encouraging him, sucking on his flesh until he was erect and she gently licked at the base of his shaft.

“You might want to add more saliva girl, if I’m going to enter you.”

She lay her tongue flat on his shaft, moving up to the tip and she pulled off, panting. “Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

He scowled at her. “You don’t seem very pleased.”

She flushed, reaching up to grasp him lightly, pumping his shaft. “…W… Will it hurt?”

He shifted, his fingers massaging her skull for a moment. “Probably.”

“Divines,” she muttered miserably, trying to focus back on the quick hand job she was giving him when his nails dug into her skull.

“If you do as I say it won’t,” he said quietly from above and she stopped, looking up at him, her ears feeling hot. “So stop fussing.”

She was quiet for a moment, her mind begging her to trust him and she closed her eyes, sighing. “Yes, my Jarl,” she nodded and she went back to work, He stopped her.

“I mean it.”

“…I trust you.”

He let go and she looked back to his cock, swallowing as she did. She made a ring around his base, squeezing gently as her other hand came up and she lightly grazed her nails over his sack, taking the head of his cock in her mouth to suck, her tongue lapping his slit.

He relaxed, pushing his hips forward a bit and she swallowed more of him, the fingers around his base beginning to move, sliding up to meet her lips before she followed it down, taking in his entire length. She stopped when she had him fully in her mouth, her tongue rubbing the underside of his cock before she moved up, her fingers drawing down into a light fist. She kept the tip in again, slowly using her hand to stroke him and her free one moved to his thigh, pressing against it.

She felt his muscles twitch, his body tense and she smiled, lovingly sucking him, pulling off so she could coat him more when he felt a bit dry. Her lips went down, taking one ball into her mouth gently and he grabbed at her hair, pulling making her release him.

“Kjersti,” he growled and she flushed, licking her lips as he pulled her up to go back down his length. She obeyed, moving her hand away to touch his other thigh, using her mouth only and she moved up and down him, trying to be messy. The more he dripped the better and she could taste his come at the tip, her cheeks flushing as she did.

She pulled off again, sucking the sides of his shaft, her fingertips teasing the crown of his cock and he exhaled above her, his stomach becoming taunt making her smile. She began to work him, her hand on his shaft jerking him off, tongue lapping at his slit and he pulled her hair again making her pant.

“Don’t swallow,” he ordered and she nodded, teasing him more, feeling him becoming tense. It was the only power she had over him, her actions dependent on herself and she pressed him, both hands grasping his wet shaft to move on it, going in different directions sending his fingers tangling in her hair, pushing her down. She continued licking, the same pressure, his come leaking and finally he bucked forward making her take him in her mouth. She let him thrust, encouraging him to come with her fingers and when he finally began she pulled off, catching as much as she could within her hand.

He hissed from above, muttering something she couldn’t hear and she used his come to coat his cock, kissing it gently until he knocked her off. The excess she licked from her palms, making sure he saw and he rubbed his temples, flushing.

“You still taste good,” she said innocently and he glared at her. She licked her lips and he was on her, his mouth on her neck making her cry out.

“You little harlot!”

“Siddgeir!” she cried, staggering at his weight on her and she braced herself on her hands and knees, his hands running over her body making her shake. “My Jarl!” He caught her from behind, pushing against her and she panted, arching against him. “Siddgeir…”

He said nothing, his hands moving, squeezing her breasts for a moment making her whimper and pull at him but he didn’t let go, tugging at her nipples making her cry out. “Aren’t you a bit sensitive?”

“N-Not my breasts!” she begged, crying out louder as he twisted them slightly. “M-My Jarl, please! Don’t!”

“You stupid elf,” he growled from behind her but he let go, grabbing her hips to drag his fingers over leaving marks in her flesh. “You’re the only one who does that.”

“What?” she asked, breathless, her hands covering her chest and he hit her elbow.

“That! What’s the matter with you? I think I’ve only seen your tits twice since we started.”

She bit her lip, feeling honestly embarrassed about it but she didn’t say anything, preferring to drop the subject. He got the hint and didn’t mention it again. His fingers found something else to prey on and they moved down, grabbing her again through her panties, his fingers pressing against her flesh making her shiver. He rubbed a few times, feeling her before gave her a few gentle slaps making her pant. “You’re wet.”

“Y-Yes,” she whimpered as he pressed the spot against her body, his fingers rubbing in the middle before he took to sliding a single finger between her folds. She tensed, her hands moving up so her forearms still covered her chest and she bit her fingers as she let him tease her. He gave long strokes, pressing the fabric against her so it would mold to her body and he snapped the string on her hip making her yelp.

“Spread your legs more,” he ordered and she obeyed, whimpering as he leaned against her, his breath on her neck. His finger continued to work her, exploring what he owned and she rocked slightly against him. He didn’t protest it, actually encouraging it as his hand rested on her hip and she covered her mouth as they fell into a rhythm, another finger being added after a while.

She was starting to get soaked, the fabric becoming wet against her and she arched her back slightly, wanting them off. He didn’t react immediately, more interested in rubbing at her clit through them and she reached down, tugging at the strings. He paused. “What?”

“T-Touch me,” she panted, her breath hot against the fingers hovering over her mouth. “Touch me directly, Siddgeir…”

“What have I told you about ordering me around,” he growled in her ear but he gripped the top of her panties pulling them down to mid-thigh; the cool air against her made her whimper and his warm fingers were eagerly welcomed back, her hips jerking. “Don’t think that you can keep doing that.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she turned, looking over her shoulder at him and she saw him scowl, reaching up to force her to look forward.

“No, you’re not…” he muttered and he nipped at her ear making her cry out. “You greedy elf.”

“S-Siddgeir!”

His fingers sped up, their movements rough but her toes curled at it as they went quiet again. His direct contact was making it harder for her to breathe, her body starting to shake as she could feel herself becoming warm and he reached down, using his other hand to spread her as he flicked a finger at her clit. She jerked violently, her back hitting his chest and he bit at the side of her jaw making her flinch. “Steady yourself!”

“Siddgeir, please!” she cried out and he pulled away, slapping her backside hard making her yelp.

“What did I say?!”

“I-I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

He pulled her back, his fingers against her again and she spread her legs more as he roughly fingered her, his movements purposefully teasing. She desperately wanted to call his name but had to stick to panting instead, her hands struggling as the pressed against her chest. He began stroking her clit with a light touch again making her shake and she grabbed his wrist, trying to make it move down. He resisted, only bothering her more by refusing to pet where she needed and she let out a cry of frustration.

“Siddgeir! I need you-!”

“Obviously,” he hissed at her and she cried out as he spread her more, his hand moving down. He pushed at her entrance, his fingertips stroking her hole and he pulled away, grabbing his knapsack to dig inside. She fell forward onto her hands, fisting the blankets and he moved back, spreading her from behind as he uncorked a bottle.

The cold liquid made her jerk. “W-What..? What is that?!”

“Something from Salof,” he muttered, pushing the thick, sticky liquid against her. “He owed me after missing his quota last month.”

“Siddgeir! It’s-! Ah! It’s cold!”

“It won’t be in a minute,” he said and she panted, looking between her legs to see him. He poured some of the contents on himself, a slick noise meeting her ears and his hand went back to stroking her making her cry out. “Relax!”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl-!” her breath caught in her throat and she tensed for a second, hissing. He slapped her backside again and she forced herself to stop. Slowly, his finger moved in and she fell down onto her forearms, biting the blanket as she felt his familiar movements. She spread her legs, clenching against him and he slapped her again making her tense.

“You’re starting to piss me off!” he commented and she groaned, feeling his finger search her, pushing in until it hit his knuckle and he waited. She exhaled and he pulled it back, pushing it in to start a gentle rhythm. She closed her eyes and begged him to at least touch her throbbing bundle of nerves as well.

He seemed to have read her mind once again and his free hand moved to rubbing her clit getting her to buck. She was spread wide, extremely lewd when she thought out it and riding her Jarl’s hand, her breaths catching in her throat as she did. He petted her, slipping another finger in and she groaned at it, riding it back. He flicked them around in her, stroking her walls and she released the blanket to let out a loud moan, indicating she liked it.

“Ready for a third?” he asked and she nodded, her hips bucking at the fingers still teasing her clit.

“I-I’m ready for you,” she whimpered and he let out an amused chuckle.

“Of course you are,” he merely said and slowly he began pushing a third finger in, the extra stretch making her tense but it felt better than the two. He started thrusting more, angling his fingers and she started squirming, reaching down to push his hand against her, wanting to feel some release but he pulled away.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged and he grabbed her hips, forcing her to fall back and lay on facing him, her pussy aching for his touch. He crawled on top of her, his green eyes moving down her body and she curled her toes, her heart beginning to race. “Siddgeir…”

“What?”

She reached up, her fingers shaking as she touched his collar and her fingers moved up, trying to lace around his neck but he pulled back. “Just lay down and relax. Don’t get cute.”

She panted, still trying to draw him closer to her but he slapped her hands away, grabbing her hips to tilt them, his cock once again erect and sliding between her folds. Her head fell back and she let out a small cry of desire as he stroked her clit. “Siddgeir! Don’t stop!”

“Please! I’m not even in you!” he snapped. “So don’t act like a fool beforehand.”

She sighed, her fingers gripping the blankets below and he began to adjust her, his cock touching her again. He reached between them, making sure she was still wet, his own dick fully coated and she watched, her chest starting to rise and fall as she realized what was coming. He held her hips, angling her and she panicked, shooting up. “Wait!”

She put her hands out, stopping him and he stared at her like he was going to rip her heart out. “W-Wait! P-P-Please!”

“What?!” he nearly shouted, his fingers digging into her hips making her wince.

“W-What if you don’t fit?!” she sputtered, her eyes moving down to him and herself, her mind pointing out how impossible it seemed. “Siddgeir! Y-You’re-!”

“I’m aware of how impressive I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I told you to relax! So fucking relax! You’ll be fine!”

“But-!”

“Kjersti!” he raised his hand and she flinched. He moved instead to rub the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself before he grabbed her and flipped her onto her stomach making her lose her breath and squirm. He forced her legs apart, pushing on her shoulders so she couldn’t see and she felt the tip of him touch her. She shook, biting her lip.

“Relax!” he ordered and she gripped the blankets around her, biting it as well as he began to push. She tensed, his nails digging into her reminding her to stop and she exhaled, letting him move. It was bigger than his fingers, hot and throbbing like herself and she squirmed as he sunk in, more of him pushing inside.

She panted hard. “Siddgeir!”

“Keep… relaxing,” he muttered from above, his hand rubbing her shoulders. “You’re fine.”

Her cheek hit the blanket, feeling the moss under it as he continued. It felt wrong, this inside of herself but the more he went the better it was and she moved again, tensing a bit around him making him hiss. “My Jarl…” she begged. “You’re… so big…”

His fingers massaged her shoulder. “Just keep relaxed,” he breathed out, no longer needing his other hand to guide him and he took to holding her side, shifting over her so she was pressed down against the blanket. “Good girl.”

She groaned at the compliment, taking the last bit of him in and he stayed on top of her, leaning down to mark the nape of her neck with a kiss, her black hair falling over her shoulder. She panted, clenching, pulsing, feeling him inside her, how foreign and strange it was. “Congratulations,” he said from above. “I suppose I can no long call you a pathetic virgin.”

“Siddgeir,” she whined, moving her hips a bit to his surprise. “My Jarl…”

“What?”

She bit the blanket again, unsure. “I’m yours…”

He said nothing but his fingers shook as they touched her. He started pulling out making her whimper at the loss but his thrust back in made it better, her body rocking against the earth and she relaxed, listening to him, focusing on the sensations of him moving against her, shallow and skilled. Her clit still throbbed, her chest uncomfortable at how it was pressed against the earth but she ignored it, biting her lip as he pushed in with a bit more authority.

Her Jarl, the one she swore an oath to, was fucking her. She panted at the thought, clenching around him making his fingers drag over her skin. “Siddgeir… Take me…”

“What… do you think I’m doing?” he growled and she shook her head, moving to look back at him over her shoulder.

“Own me,” she whimpered. “Like you said you would.”

He snorted. “You damn elves… Maybe Erikur was right,” he muttered and she flexed at his words. “Insatiable.”

She flushed. “Y-You just feel good and I… I want you…” she whimpered. “I want you to have me.”

His thrusts became slow, almost maddeningly and she tried thrusting back but he held her still, his nails leaving marks on her golden skin. “You wish for me to take possession of you?”

“Yes!” she whimpered and he was quiet, his fingers massaging her skin.

“Do you want me, Kjersti, to own you?”

“Yes!” she repeated, twisting under him. “Siddgeir, please!”

“You stupid virgin,” he muttered and he roughly grabbed her, forcing her knees up making her yelp. “If you want me to, then fine. You’re. Mine!” he snapped, his hips driving down and she yelled out, her body tensing at how hard he thrust, her knees buckling on the blanket. He began thrusting into her, fast and hard and she felt a wave of regret hit her, the pain of being taken now apparent but it was quickly replaced with a shameful sense of want.

She bucked back, like a common whore and she called his name, her fingers twisting the blanket below. “M-My Jarl!”

He bit her shoulder and she wailed, thrusting back even harder. She couldn’t match his pace, not with her current stamina level and she spread her legs, taking it, feeling something growing in her, the hot desire she always felt with him before she came. She pushed for it, riding him, begging to get to that point, for him to touch her, own her, make her relent.

He pulled out.

“S-Siddgeir!” she shouted, turning but he slapped her ass, fluid hitting it. She went quiet, listening to him breathe and he caught himself on her, his hot breath against her back. He shoved her, her body falling on her side and she said nothing, her nerves screaming under her skin. He came and she didn’t. She whimpered and stared out at the woods, aching.

He looked down at her tired form, her legs pulling together as she bit her lip and he let out a low growl. “What? What’s the matter now?”

“N-Nothing,” she lied, feeling herself pulse still, the ache not subsiding and he scowled. She didn’t meet his eyes, closing them instead as she focused on her breathing and she jerked when his fingers touched her. “S-Siddgeir!”

“Just shut up,” he ordered, spreading her cheeks and she clenched her legs together as he pressed into her, gasping. “Stop clenching!”

“I-I’m sorry!” she whimpered, her fingers gripping the blanket and she tried to relax but his rough touch made it difficult. He stroked her, his fingers pushing into her used entrance, moving up and she bit down on the blanket shaking. He turned them, searching, pressing against her walls and she gave a laboured breath, pulling more of the blanket into her arms. She didn’t know what he was looking for, her body aching and throbbing against his inquisitive fingers and her curled them, pressing against something that made her choke.

“M-My Jarl!” she cried out, bucking and he made a pleased noise from above.

“You say something, Thane?” he drawled and he pressed again, rubbing and she violently jerked, nearly screaming at the feeling. It was almost too intense for her, like jolts of electricity firing in her stomach and he began to rub, coaxing her. She twisted, falling on her back and she covered her face to try and keep her cries down but it seemed useless.

She thrashed, grabbing at the blanket below her, pulling it within her fists and she cried out as he put a hand on her stomach, still stroking the nerves within her, smirking as she howled. “S-Siddgeir! Siddgeir, w-wait!” she cried, biting the blanket again, bucking against him. “M-My Jarl! My Jarl, I-I’m-! I can’t-!”

“Come on,” he said amused and she kicked out as he added more pressure, teasing her to the point where she arched her back, tensing around his fingers. “Come on, Kjersti, ride it out already…”

She cried out, her breath catching in her throat and it hit her like a boulder, her hips moving on their own, sensations filling her head and she rode his hand. She could feel herself release, literally, something within her letting go and she fell against the blankets again, her hips rolling still as he thrust his fingers in her. He pulled back, her body shaking as he did and he wiped his hand on her stomach making her groan, her legs pressing together once again, throbbing before she collapsed.

“Was that so hard?” he asked and she groaned again, covering her eyes with her right forearm, exhaustion hitting her. He grabbed her wrist, forcing her up and she fell against him as he pulled her into his lap, her breathing still ragged.

“…W…what…” she panted, trying to grip him but she still was empty of stamina. “Siddgeir… what…”

He shrugged. “Something I picked up a while ago. Though really I shouldn’t have to get you off. Learn to do it yourself, elf.”

She groaned and laid against him, her back and hips hurting as the sweat on her body cooled and she slowly wrapped her arms around him, breathing out as she fell back to normal. His skin was warm against hers, his body a bit rough with hair on his chest but she didn’t mind. She found herself leaning into it, feeling how different they were, her skin soft and dotted with a few scars while his was virtually flawless, only his hands showing that he used a weapon. 

She pulled at his arm, making him relent and let her touch him and she ran her fingers down his forearm, feeling the muscles and bone underneath. His fingertips were rough, his palm hard from his bow and she pressed her hand flat against his. He dwarfed her by far and she let him go, looking to her own hands at how they only showed wear around her nails before she rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.

It seemed funny how her weapon didn’t affect her hands at all as they still were soft like when she was a child, her magic almost protecting them while her Jarl’s were hardened for his. He shifted, pulling her legs so she fit around him and they sat quietly, his fingers absently stroking her back.

She breathed out as he shifted again, her arms tightening around his body and she listened to his heart thump in his chest, his own breathing slowly lessening to barely being heard. Her eyes moved up, looking at him, his green eyes, black hair, strong jaw and she flushed. She dearly wanted to reach up and trace his features, feel his throat, kiss his skin but she knew he wouldn’t respond well to it. His eyes flicked down making her flush even more and they stared at each other.

Her heart began to pound in her chest as he did, a familiar feeling rising in her and she swallowed, breaking their little contest to press herself against him more and for once he didn’t shove her back. “…Siddgeir…”

“What,” he muttered from above, his fingers absently going to tangle in her hair and she closed her eyes, feeling his heart pound a bit faster. She shifted, pressing her chest against his and her cheek met his neck, briefly nuzzling it, quiet. She just wanted to remain with him. “What, Kjersti?”

The more she thought about what she wanted to say the more frightened she got at the repercussions. She swallowed the anxiety filling her, holding him tight as she struggled but she became too scared to say it. She drew circles on his back with her fingers. “Nothing.”

He shifted, exhaling in irritation and she flushed, begging him silently not to let her go so she could have one moment with him. He pushed her off making her sigh, cursing herself and her chin was forced up so he could look at her. His eyes bore down into her and she shivered, her throat becoming dry as he searched her for an answer.

“I’m never going to say that, you know,” he said as if he read her mind and she felt her shoulders fall, her heart sinking but her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m a Jarl. You’re just my damn Thane.”

“I-I know,” she apologized. “I’m sorry, my Jarl, I didn’t mean to put you in such a position.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” he growled and she closed her eyes, silently apologizing more lest he get more irritated. “I’m not stupid. You think I never noticed how you look at me?” He accused and she pulled back, shaking as she tried to move out of his lap but he held her still, trapping her making her flush. “Kjersti!”

“W-Why do you do this then?!” she asked, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Why… do you torment me with… physical contact and pleasure then?” She finally looked at him and he pursed his lips, swallowing after she spoke. She stared at him, her heart beginning to pound. “Siddgeir?”

He said nothing still and she found herself flushing. “My Jarl?! Why?!”

He looked away, his jaw tight and his ears a bit red making her fidget, now searching him for an answer. She touched his forearms, leaned towards him and she could feel his pulse. She frowned, looking down at his wrist and she grabbed it making him flush. His heart was pounding and she stared at him, swallowing. “…Y-You like me.”

“Oh, shut up!” he snapped, grabbing her hips and she yelped as he shoved her back down, quickly readying himself before plunging into her again making her cry out. Her shock morphed swiftly into utter submission and she grabbed at his hands as he dominated her, her fingers trying to grip his. He didn’t relent, biting her neck and she gave up, falling back to let him do as he pleased, her hips rolling with his.

He pulled her hair at the nape of her neck, his teeth snapping at her own pulse and she panted, wrapping her legs around him, her cheeks flushed as she twisted below. “M-My Jarl!”

“Say my goddamn name, elf!” he spat in her ear and she bit her lip, her heart pounding as her head became light.

“Siddgeir!”

He angled, hitting her in a way that made her howl, her voice echoing in the grotto and she dragged her nails down his back, begging for him as she did. He responded by biting her earlobe, sending her entire body shaking and she desperately clung to him. “S-Siddgeir! Ah! Not there! Please! Siddgeir!”

She swore she heard him chuckle, his tongue running up the side and she bucked against him, clenching when she could. It took a considerable effort to, her insides not used to the motion but he groaned from above making her continue, her hands dragging down to his hips and she scratched him, leaving marks on his skin.

He grabbed her and forced her on her side, her left leg being pulled up. “Siddgeir!” she cried at the position change, the new angle making her cry out and he reached down, petting her as he fucked her making her act even worse, the blanket being torn and ripped by her nails. “Siddgeir!”

He said nothing, merely let out a strained groan or hiss from behind and she squirmed, her insides feeling hot again, his fingers driving her crazy, his tongue against her ear unbearable and she was sent over the edge, clawing to get away. He held her back, forcing her to ride him until he finally relented for a third time, fucking her into the moss, her toes curling as he did.

He pulled her tired body so she was on her back again, his mouth hitting hers and she whimpered, her legs falling open, her lips gingery meeting his and he slightly pulled away. “I don’t like you, Thane. I own you. Remember that.”

She panted against his lips, her tongue meeting his a few more times before he pushed himself up, breathing hard for a minute as he braced himself on his hands. His eyes met hers moving down to roam over her body for a moment and he shifted his weight so he could slap her temple. She yelped and grabbed the side of her head, cringing.

“That’s… for pissing me off,” he snapped and she winced. “Goddamn elf!”

“S-Sorry my Jarl,” she said, trying hard not to smile as she soothed where he hit. “I’ll try not to do it again.”

“See that you do,” he muttered, smoothing his hair back before he pulled out making her hiss. He didn’t try and cuddle her this time, leaving her where she lay and he grabbed his tunic, pulling it on before he smoothed his hair back more and placed his crown back on his head. He stood, walking to grab his boots and he pulled them on, looking around them after he did. She slowly pushed herself up, pulling the blanket around her naked body and she crawled to grab her robes, struggling to put them on.

They seemed tighter on her body than before, her hands constantly adjusting the fabric and she searched for her undergarments, pulling on her hood as she did. She couldn’t find them and she frowned, looking as she noticed he was putting on his refined robes, the black fur around his collar sticking in every direction making him take a minute to smooth it. “My Jarl?”

“What is it now?” he said and she fidgeted.

“I can’t find my undergarments,” she said and he looked over his shoulder at her. “Have you seen them?”

“No,” he said abruptly and she pursed her lips.

“I-I can’t go back without…”

“Well, too bad,” he snorted. “Guess you’re walking.”

She flushed and fidgeted, deciding to try and use part of her robes so she wasn’t directly against the saddle, her legs shaking and he snapped his fingers at her making her stop. He pointed at the blanket and she began to fold it, gathering up the few things they had used in their unscheduled adventure. She winced as she leaned down, drawing her legs together to bend her knees and he watched her, waiting for her to finish. “Something wrong?”

“I feel… broken…” she muttered and he snorted.

“You better not be. Your damn body is mine and I intend to use it when I wish. So get over it,” he said and she sighed but nodded, following him to their horses who didn’t seem at all bothered by what they had done, the grass around them neatly trimmed. Kjersti hesitated as he hooked his knapsack back onto his stallion.

“…Siddgeir?”

“What?”

“….Should… no, uh,” she found herself frowning. “Was it… okay that you… did that in me?” He turned to her, flushing and she fidgeted. “I mean, if I get pregnant-”

“You’re an elf, aren’t you?” he said looking her over and she nodded. “Then don’t worry about it. The chances of you getting pregnant are slim.”

“Why?” she said and he scowled.

“Do I look like a fucking scholar to you?! Bother Nenya with that! For now, you’re fine!” he snapped and she pursed her lips as he went to untie their horses, throwing her reins at her. “Even if you did-!”

He stopped and she stared at him, waiting. He shook his head, mounting his horse and he pulled on the stallion’s reins, making it turn. “I-If I did, what?” she asked and he shot her a look.

“Get on your horse before I decide to really punish you,” he muttered and she did as he asked, pulling her robes so they were under her as she got on the saddle, her cloak being pulled on and over her legs. “Now we’re not speaking of this again.”

She nodded. “But my Jarl?”

“Now fucking what?!” he spat and she flushed at him.

“Will… we do this again?”

He exhaled, looking her over and he gently kicked his stallion in the ribs making it shift and move forward. “Yes.”

She smiled, nudging her mare as she began to follow him, pushing back out into the forest around them, her cheeks glowing from the aftermath. She rode up beside him, giving him a grin and he pulled ahead, grabbing a branch and pulling it back so when she went by it hit her. She cried out and clutched her face making him smile.

“Watch out for that,” he said and she stared at him, sighing, the glow gone.

“Yes, my Jarl.”


	43. Physical (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: What with it being Valentines day, how about something similar in Skyrim? The day of Mara being a day to be with your loved one, spread Mara's teachings and embrace love as the goddess would want. Snuggles, cuddles, sweet confessions, baked goods, all that. Any couple can do it. (Any race too. I'm sure a blushing Orc is just the cutest thing ever)

“What in oblivion is that?” he sneered, lowering his book as she held out a small box, her cheeks and ears a deep red and her eyes on the floor.

“F-F-For you,” she sputtered, her arms shaking. “For you, m-m-my Jarl.”

“Stop stuttering!” he spat, dropping his book as he got up off his throne and he took it, examining the box before opening it. She fidgeted uncontrollably, her robes being twisted in her hands. He narrowed his eyes as he looked inside.

He reached in, pulling out a ring and she finally couldn’t take it, falling to her knees in front of him. “I-It’s enchanted! I-I tried to do better but-”

He dropped the box on her head making her yelp and he studied the ring, still wary. She gripped her cheeks; she knew it was a bad idea to give it to him. Why did she listen to Narri? The girl didn’t even like her.

He put the ring on, studying it more before his boot hit her head, pushing her down into a deeper bow. “What aren’t you telling me?” he said and she flushed.

“N-Nothing,” she said, keeping her head hung low.

“I don’t believe you,” he muttered, putting more pressure on her head until the door to the Longhouse opened. She heard a gasp.

“Siddgeir, get your boot off of her!” Nenya chastised and his foot left her making her sigh in relief. “Honestly, you’re lucky she hasn’t hit you yet!”

“She would never do that, right?” he spat and she nodded. Of course she wouldn’t. “See? Besides, she’s up to something. What day is it?”

Nenya came forward, the fresh rolls of paper crinkling under her arm and she frowned. “It’s Loredas.”

“I know what day it is!” he snapped. “What’s so significant about it!? Why would I get something from my stupid fucking Thane on this day?”

Nenya paused and she looked down at her. Kjersti flushed. “Oh,” she remarked. “…Oh.”

“What does that mean?” he growled as his steward moved to going to put away the paper, bowing to Skulnar as she did. The Legate bowed, smiling, before his eyes slid back to the pages of his book and Nenya returned to stand by the Jarl, looking at the girl on the floor.

“Who told you about today?” she asked and Kjersti looked up to her sister-kin, her cheeks flushing in shame.

“Narri.”

“Figures,” Nenya muttered and she finally turned to the fuming Jarl who was becoming less patient with every passing second. “It’s Mara’s Day.”

“Mara?” he spat, giving her a look before he stiffened and looked down at the ring. He glared at her and she flushed. “My room. Now.”

She slowly got up, scurrying to his room and she heard Nenya from behind her. “Siddgeir, leave her alone.”

“Nenya, shut up.”

There was a scoff and Kjersti moved to the right side of his room, holding her cheeks in embarrassment as he came in and slammed the door. She immediately began to apologize. “It was all I could find,” she begged as he moved towards her, pulling the ring off. “I only had a silver ingot and you said you hated necklaces and I was told gifts are important today for the person you-”

“Love?” he spat and she looked away, biting her lip. He slapped her, hard and she winced, her fingers clutching her robes. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are my fucking Thane. A possession. There is no marriage in this!”

She exhaled, shaking in her spot. “I-I know. I… I just can’t… I thought-” she covered her face, trying to gain control of herself. “It’s just a gift, my Jarl. It’s the only day I can give you one.”

“You want to give me a gift?” he growled, tossing the ring on the table in the corner, pushing her until she hit his wardrobe. “Get on your knees and suck me off when I least expect it. Get me some fucking mead when I want it. Stop being so damned stupid all the time!”

She licked her lips, nodding. His eyes moved down staring at them and she parted them slightly. “I’m sorry, my Jarl. I shouldn’t have listened to Narri…”

His eyes moved up. “What have I told you about speaking to that mouthy bitch?”

“Don’t,” she breathed out and he growled, eyes moving down again. She shifted, arching her back a bit against the wardrobe. “Siddgeir.” He looked up. “Forgive me.”

He pursed his lips. “Don’t listen or talk to those troublemaking harlots at the inn.”

“I won’t,” she promised and he moved closer, pressing her against the wardrobe making her heart pound. He studied her.

“How much is that ring work?”

She thought about it. “N-Nine hundred septims?” she guessed. “I enchanted it with an archery fortification… t-the best I could conjure.”

He loosed his grip on her, reaching up to grab her head, his thumbs pressing against her throat and she swallowed, flushing. His eyes kept dragging over her making her unable to judge his state of mind and she exhaled as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over hers.

“I should beat you until you’re bleeding, elf,” he muttered and she exhaled again, starting to pant. “Giving me a ring and listening to those whores at the Inn? It’s as if you like trying my patience.”

“Forgive me,” she whispered and his lips once again went over hers, almost kissing, her skin tingling and he scoffed.

“I’ll think about it.”

He finally kissed her and she arched, letting him dominate her. It was controlled and deliberate, a show of his power over her and she melted to him, loving it. He let go of her letting her throw her arms around his neck and she was pressed back against the wardrobe, the studs on the back of it digging into her skull and shoulders. She pulled at the furs around his neck, offering her tongue to him which he took and he hauled her into his arms, moving her towards the bed.

He tossed her down and she yelped as she bounced against it and he grabbed her boots, pulling them off. A sudden realization hit her. “M-My Jarl, the court-?”

“Let them hear, I don’t care,” he muttered, kicking his own boots off before he straddled her, pulling her hood off making her hair spill out. “It’s not like they haven’t before.” She flushed deeply, embarrassed and he ripped at her thin belt, pulling it off to throw to the side. “What?”

“I-It’s embarrassing,” she said and he snorted, taking his crown off to toss on the post of the bed.

“I suppose to you it is,” he leaned down, forcing her chin up to make her look at him. “If it bothers you so much, stop screaming so loudly when I fuck you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

She swallowed and gripped her robes from below, twisting them. “It feels too good when you’re…”

He smirked and she licked her lips, her heart beating hard in her chest again her desire rising. He pinned her down, his fingers gripping her wrists hard and she panted, squirming, her mouth opening which he took. His kisses were intoxicating, her thoughts scrambling and she lay against his bed, her knees drawing up around him as he dominated her again. She whimpered, trying to pull out of his grip and she managed to get her left wrist free, grabbing at his hand, making him lace his fingers with hers. He gripped her tight, squeezing making her arch but he didn’t stop his kiss.

She continued to submit to him, only parting when he ripped her robes up and she whimpered for him, trying to pull him back which he refused. He tugged off his robes, his light tunic below nearly getting taken with it and he dropped their clothes behind him, pushing her back down, finally continue their kissing. She eagerly went back against him, panting as their bodies met and she felt him press against her.

He was semi-hard. It made her groan and cling to his body more.

“Kjersti,” he growled, grinding against herself making her arch. She nodded, moving, turning on her side and he pushed his body up, falling onto his back as she crawled onto him, gently grabbing his cock from under his loincloth. She tugged the strings, tossing it off and she did a few quick strokes to get him completely upright, watching in fascination as he did. She easily slid it into her mouth, sucking on just the head before she moved down, taking it all. His hand swept into her hair, gripping it before he pushed her forward and she did as he wanted, moving up and down, taking it slow, savouring him. 

He left her hair, slapping her ass and she turned, releasing him to look. He beckoned her and she flushed, remaining in place until he grabbed her legs, forcing her onto him making her yelp. He ripped down her panties, tearing them off and his tongue hit her making her tense, her face flushing a deep red. 

“M-My Jarl, you don’t-!” she cried and his fingers dug into her thighs making her wince. He slapped her ass again making her flinch and she got the hint. She took him back into her mouth, sucking gently again before she added her hand and she began stroking him, her tongue remaining on the crown of his cock, flicking against his slit. He tensed, shifting, his legs adjusting and she felt him give her a sloppy lick making her whimper. She had to focus on what she was doing to him.

It was harder with him licking her. She wasn’t used to it, still under the feeling he shouldn’t as his fingers were enough to get her off and he spread her making her shake. He deliberately slid his tongue up, knowing exactly where to linger to make her cry out and he finished, giving her a wet kiss against her sex. She went down on him, stroking a bit harder, her tongue trailing after her hand and she began to squirm against him as his teasing increased.

She didn’t know how he knew exactly where to bother her, his fingers moving up to rub with his tongue and she reached down, gently playing with his sack as she continued to suck on him. She was getting more worked up than him and she reached up, rubbing his slit, trying to encourage him to at least start leaking.

His tongue entered her and her toes curled, her body stiffening. He slapped her again and she shook, sloppily moving her hand against him. “S-Siddgeir…” she begged, unable to concentrate as her cheek hit his thigh, her fingers barely moving as he bathed her. “M-my Jarl-! I-I’m… I can’t…!”

He pulled back and she waited, expecting him to do something else but when he didn’t she began to squirm, trying to see him and he gripped her hard making it nearly impossible for her to move. “Siddgeir!”

“Suck, Kjersti,” he commanded and she flushed. She took a minute, trying to control herself before she went back on him, her lips sliding up his shaft, coating him with saliva as her hand went back to work. She moved in tune, desperate to please him and her free hand slid back down, gently pawing at his balls recalling how she was told not to push it. He shifted, his chest rising below her and she sucked below the crown, her tongue running under the ridge before she moved up and swiped at his slit again.

He still wasn’t leaking and she made a more desperate attempt, both hands going to move in opposite directions on his cock, her right hand rolling over his head, moving as if she was trying to shine it, his body tensing beneath. His fingers pushed into her making her clench and pause, a small cry escaping her and he slapped her ass again.

“Keep going!” he demanded and she struggled to get back into a rhythm again, kissing at the base of his cock, moving so her lips trailed around it. She jerked him off, the blood rushing to her head as she dipped down, licking at his sack and she felt her palm become a bit sticky. He was finally showing signs of his desire and she went back up, taking him in once again. He pulsed in her mouth, his cock hot and her cheeks flushing and she moved her head up and down in a slow motion, drawing it out.

He was back on her and she shivered, struggling once again as her thoughts scrambled. He felt so good. She pulled off, tasting a familiar saltiness on her tongue and she let out a series of hot pants as he licked between her folds. “M-My Jarl!”

He slapped her thigh making her jerk and she knew by now her skin had to be red, her backside hurting. She went back down once more, swallowing him and she moved, taking him to the base, humming and he tensed again.

She pulled back, holding only the tip in her mouth, her hands working him and she could feel his body shift, his muscles flexing and she greedily teased him, waiting for him to come. His mouth hit her, his tongue driving her crazy and she desperately jerked him off, her own desire starting to make her sweat and squirm. He released, his fingers thrusting into her as he did and she flinched, shocked, before catching it all, stilling her hands so she could take him at once.

His come slid down her throat, his taste on her tongue and she swallowed, gasping as she did. He pushed her off, her body hitting the bed and she held her mouth, still lingering on his taste, shivering. He spread her legs, going back down and she thrashed, whimpering as he was back on her, teasing her again to the edge. She kept a hand over her mouth as he circled the tip of his tongue around her clit, her hips rolling and her mind scrambling and he curled his fingers up making her buck.

“Siddgeir!” she cried out, reaching down to grab at his head, her fingers tangling into his thick hair, tugging, trying to get more pressure and he resisted. “I-I can’t take it!”

He teased her more, his nails digging into her thighs and she arched, letting go to grab at the blankets below, twisting them within her grip. His fingers worked her, encouraging her making her stomach tighten and her thighs shake and she let out a loud moan, choking on it when he licked her clit directly, the sensation sending her over the edge. She pulled, trying to get away and he forced her back, making her thrash and cry and kick, her voice breaking as she called his name. His fingers continued to move inside her, his tongue licking at what she released and she collapsed, her eyes unable to focus.

He leaned up, licking his fingers before he grabbed her making her moan. “Kjersti,” he muttered and she whimpered. “Come on, get up.”

She moaned even louder, her limbs aching and her mind still swimming with her orgasm. He hauled her up, forcing her into his arms and she instinctively clung to him, her lips kissing whatever skin she came in contact with, her fingers tugging at his tunic. He tilted her head up, his fingers pressing into her mouth and she sucked, cleaning them for him.

“Idiot,” he muttered and she flushed, licking his fingertips.

“Siddgeir,” she whimpered and he stared at her. Her hair was sticking to her neck, her body exhausted and she felt her cheeks tingle, as if she was glowing. He rolled his eyes, pulling his fingers away and he kissed her again. She fell into him, useless, his arms having to hold her and she whimpered his name every time they parted. He merely sighed.

“You need to learn to have some stamina,” he muttered and she nodded.

“I’ll… craft… a ring,” she muttered and he glared at her.

“Very funny.” She didn’t understand and he rolled his eyes. “Stupid fucking elf.”

She swallowed, reaching up to take his hand and move it down, pushing it between her legs. His eyes narrowed. “Please. Can we?”

She was wet, throbbing and aching for him and he leaned down, kissing her rather roughly and she rolled her tongue against his, moving to be flush against him. He pulled back, not letting her kiss him, holding his dominance over her. “Fool.”

She bit her lip. “Please.”

He grabbed her, pulling her into his lap more, his fingers massaging her hips and she went back to kissing him, pulling at his bottom lip, her tongue slipping past his teeth into his mouth. She moaned, arching against him, desperately kissing him as he spread her legs, his fingers getting her ready and she gasped when he fell back taking her with him. “Siddgeir!”

He nipped at her neck making her tense and grab his shoulders. “Spread,” he commanded.

She obeyed, pressing against him and he adjusted her, the tip of his cock lining up to prod at her body. She sighed, falling against him, keeping her breathing even as he pushed in so as not to clench or aggravate him. He sunk in, massaging her as he did and she had to kiss him once more, whimpering when he bucked up to fully be inside her, his body flush against hers.

She kissed the side of his mouth. “My Jarl…” she groaned and he flexed at her words. “Please…”

“Move then,” he muttered and she flushed, kissing his jaw. “You’re on top.”

She exhaled, nodding and slowly began moving her hips, the position awkward making her lean up to try and adjust. He reached up, a hand moving to hold her back, the other pushing her head down and her forehead met his making her whimper. Their eyes locked, her heart pounded and she reached down, her own hands resting on his shoulders.

“Keep going,” he commanded and she tried again, spreading her legs as she thrust down, rolling her hips. He shifted, bending his knees and she found the small change more favourable for her, a slow rhythm being able to establish between her and him. She bit her lip, breaking their eye contact to dip her head down, curling into his neck and he massaged her back, the hand on her head moving to cup her ass.

She moaned against him, kissing whatever skin she could find, her fingers massaging his shoulders. It was strangely intimate, not like how rough he usually liked it with her. She didn’t know if she should like it as it might make her crave it more which he would withhold from her when he gripped her tight making her whimper. He shoved her, making her draw her head up and his mouth met hers, her skin tingling against his as they kissed.

She couldn’t help herself. She loved it, how close he was, how gentle he was being, how she felt for the first time like she wasn’t just his natural possession but a lover. She moaned, wanting more, her fingers dragging up, moving into his hair and she lightly scratched his skull making him moan. He thrust up into her making her breath catch and she continued rolling her hips against his in a steady motion, focusing more on his mouth as he pulled on her tongue.

She withdrew. “Siddgeir…” she moaned his name, a shiver running down her spine as his nails dragged down her back, massaging her still. She wanted to say it, desperately, her heart beating hard in her chest and her mind filled with only him and he kicked his leg out, moving them so her back hit the bed and he was on top. He had to re-enter, his hands gripping her flesh roughly as he did and she arched her back, pulling at his tunic.

“Yeah,” he muttered against her lips. “I know.”

She looked to him, confused but he was kissing her again sending her thoughts scattering. His took to thrusting in the same slow, controlled rhythm she had and she clung to him, making him press against her, her own sense of possessiveness coming out. She didn’t want anyone else to have him – nor any man have herself but him for that matter – and she kissed him hard to try and drive the point home. He grabbed her waist, his hands gripping her lithe frame tight and he pushed her down, dominating her.

She groaned against him, bucking her hips up. He seemed to have gotten the message. She flushed and withdrew from his lips, kissing his neck and she tugged at his tunic wanting it off. He pulled it over his head, tossing it behind them and she pressed herself against his body again, kissing his jaw, his chin then his pulse. He pushed her down again but she insisted to be close to him, wrapping her arms around his neck wanting his warmth against her.

“Kjersti,” he growled and she panted into his ear.

“Please. Just for now don’t push me off,” she begged. He shifted, as if he was flexing to remind her who was in charge making her wrap her legs around him tight, pulling him to the bed.

“I ought to beat you,” he hissed into her ear and she smiled, moving to hug his shoulders to her, her hips moving against his. “You stupid elf.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with a smile, kissing his neck. He grabbed her throat, pressing her to the bed and his emerald eyes fixated on her making her bit her lip.

“No you’re not,” he muttered but he kissed her, his grip lessening until his hand moved to cupping her head. His thrusts started becoming deeper making her legs shake but she still controlled herself wanting to draw it out. She just wanted to feel him in her longer, how warm he was against her skin, how he tasted like honey and smelled like the hunts they went on. It was intoxicating and rich, her fingers drawing circles on his back and he moved, making her whimper.

“On your stomach,” he commanded, pulling out again and she obliged, moving to yet another position as he remounted her. This time her grabbed her shoulders, pushing her against the bed as he weighed down on her and she felt her breath hitch, her toes curling. He started nipping at her neck, his right hand lacing with hers and she let out a high sounding moan, her heart ready to burst from her chest. She held his hand tight, his thrusts now deep and powerful.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried out, feeling it in her stomach. She spread her legs, her free hand gripping the blankets below and she let him take her, the bed shifting on the floor. “S-Siddgeir, please!”

He panted against her ear, fucking her into the bed. The straw under them shifted, the wooden bed frame moving against the stones and she arched her back as she felt herself slowly moving towards and orgasm, her thighs twitching as she did. He continued to kiss her neck and shoulders, his lips against her ear sending a jolt down her spine and his voice rumbled against her.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone dark and she moaned.

“You.”

“Say it again,” he breathed, his thrusts getting more to the point and she opened her mouth in silent cries, her body shaking.

“I-I want you, Siddgeir!” she choked out. “I only e-ever want you!”

“Good,” his tongue hit her ear and she cried out. “Good fucking girl...”

“Siddgeir!”

His fingers dug into her skin, his pounding relentless and she squirmed against him, desperate. She shifted, her hips moving, her fingers pulling the blankets and it hit her in a long, drawn out motion. She squeezed his hand when it did. Her orgasm rocked her body, sent her thighs shaking, her arms becoming weak and she groaned, loud and deep. It spurred him on, his own voice becoming dark with desire and need and she arched her back, still riding her high when he came.

It filled her making her clench, her body hot and warm and tingling and he forced her head to the side kissing her. She met him back with equal exhausted desperation, his body pressed tight against hers before he drew back. He didn’t pull away, his forehead against her shoulder and they panted in tune to each other, Kjersti still shaking from it, her mind slowly comprehending what had happened.

She had never had an orgasm like that; drawn out in such a way. It made her cheeks feel too hot, her head spinning and he began to pull out. She almost wanted to protest but his body heat off of her felt like a relief.

He rolled off, falling onto the bed beside her, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he did and she purred in the aftermath, her legs closing tight. There was a fuzziness in her that made her more affectionate than she should have been and she crawled up to rest her head on his chest, listening to his own heartbeat. He tangled a hand in her hair, not pushing her off as he would have.

“Stupid girl,” he said and she flushed, kissing his chest. “This is the only day you’ll get treated like this, got it? I fucking own you and I’m not doing this… bullshit all the time.”

She raised her head, her cheeks flushing a bit deeper as she mulled over his words. “W-What do you mean? The only day?” He glared at her and she bit her lip, a bubble of happiness forming in her chest. “You mean…? Every year? Every year you’ll-?”

He growled, his teeth baring and she silenced herself, the corners of her mouth still twitching in a smile and she went back to resting her cheek against him, fidgeting making him slap her. “S-Sorry, my Jarl.”

“Stupid girl,” he repeated again. “I suppose you’ll want to share my bed tonight too.” She nodded and he sighed. “Damn elf.”

“I can’t help it,” she said quietly, nuzzling him. “I lov-”

He slapped her, hard and she choked on her sentence, reaching up to hold where he hit. “Fucking idiot!”

“S-Sorry.”

“Shut up!” he fumed, his ears red and his eyes fixated on her making her bit her lip. He moved to grab her and she pulled away making him growl. She didn’t know why she giggled but it came out and he lunged at her, tackling her to the bed, the wooden frame creaking. “You damn elf!”

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried out, unable to help herself as his fingers snapped at her sides and she fell into a giggling fit, becoming tangled in the bedsheets as they tumbled. He nipped at her ear making her jerk and cry out. “N-Not there!”

“Where?” he teased. “Here?” He pulled at the tips of her ears and she let out a shriek, fighting against him in another fit of giggles, her body becoming hot again.

“My Jarl!”

He pinned her down, his mouth hitting hers again and she whimpered, arching to him. His kisses once again filled her head, her body curling against him and he moved her legs, pulling them apart to fit against her, not breaking as he did and she grabbed at his forearms.

“Siddgeir,” she panted when he finally released her lips. “Please.”

“What?” he muttered and she moved her hips against him making him look down. “You want to go again?” She nodded and he sighed. “Insatiable harlot.”

“Only for you,” she said, licking her lips and she smiled when he flushed a bit. He pinned her down, his fingers flexing against her shoulders.

“Fine. But we’re doing this my way,” he said and she smiled. “I’ll have you screaming so the entire Hold hears you.”

“Please,” she begged again. “I’m yours to do as you wish, my Jarl.”


	44. Breathless (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while on vacation. Initially, I wanted to make a prompt that was similar to the premise of this but then I just wrote this instead for myself.

He rolled off her making her groan and his back hit the bed, his breaths still coming out in pants as he reached up and felt the bridge of his nose. She lay beside him, exhausted, her inner thighs coated with his come, her legs still shaking and her hips aching and she turned to look to him, her hair uncomfortably sticking to her neck.

He seemed to feel her gaze and looked over at her, his own slicked back hair a mess with loose strands near his dark green eyes and sweat on his brow and neck. She let out a pant and he sighed. “Y-Yeah.”

She crawled to him – well, not much else she could do since her legs refused to help her – and she fell against his hot chest, her cheek pressing against his collar as she felt him breathe, her arms coming to hold him. He slung an arm around her shoulder, his right hand still rubbing his temples and they lay quiet, naked, and struggling from the aftermath. He pleasured her too much where she doubted him going down on her for an hour could bring her to orgasm again while his cock lay heavy against his thigh, spent from how much he released in such a short time.

She had swallowed the majority of it, the rest ending up inside her or on her thighs and stomach and her own clear release still was on his hands and lips. She buried herself against him, holding him as tight as she could for a second making him growl before she released and they lay exhausted.

Finally, she spoke. “Siddgeir…”

“…What?”

She closed her eyes, felt his chest rise and fall as his skin started to prickle from his sweat cooling and she felt a shiver run up herself from the thought. “Thank you.”

He looked down at her but she didn’t meet his gaze back and he ended up slumping against his pillow, sighing. “Whatever.”

She smiled to herself and laid against him, revealing in his heat. His pale skin was flushed in some places making her touch them gently with her fingertips before they moved down his chest, curling over the black hair that covered his breast and drew down in a line towards his cock. She traced it lazily, moving over his stomach where she could still see some light scars down to the base of his cock which was covered with the thick hair. She moved to touch him but he stopped her making her look to him.

His eyes were no longer dark but they were weary and he pulled her wrist back up, dropping her hand on his chest. “No more,” he said. “I don’t have a fucking drop of come left.”

She had to smile despite his crass words. “Neither do I, my Jarl.”

He looked at her, judging her but finally he relented and a small smile showed on his lips making her press against him again. He moved his hand off her shoulder and buried it in her hair, pulling at the damp, messy strands which stuck to her back and neck. She reached up and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, her head moving to rest on his pillow while one of her legs hooked over his. He let her and they remained still for a while, their breaths finally becoming soft and their skin no longer on fire as it had been.

She started to shiver and he moved her, pulling at the stained blanket underneath them to cover her, falling back down as he did. She sighed, resting against him and she almost fell asleep when he spoke.

“We need to go to Riften.”

She frowned. “My Jarl?”

He merely continued. “I haven’t seen Maven in a while. And it would get good to get away from this dump. I’m sick of this rain.”

Her eyes instinctively looked up to the ceiling as if she could see the sky before they went back down to her Jarl. He didn’t look to her and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Would that be wise?”

“Eh?” he said annoyed and she flushed, moving closer to him despite feeling how tense he had got.

“I-It’s nearing the second harvest,” she tried. “When the nights get longer and the days shorter.”

“So what?” he said and she frowned at him.

“W-Would it be wise to travel to Riften with such little light now,” she tried to make him understand what she meant. “The guards… t-they said the Rift has Werewolves… and…”

He scoffed. “You believe those idiots? Those are the same men who said there’s a race of half-goat, half-man living in the Reach.”

She flushed. “H-He saw it!”

He glared at her. “Are you kidding me? You believe that shit?”

“N-No.”

“…Idiot,” he sighed and he reached up to rub his temple making her frown. She leaned up on her forearms, looking to her Jarl with his rough cheeks and swollen lips and he looked down to her. She bit her lip.

“I-I’m just worried.”

He stared at her. “There’s worry and then there’s stupidity. Learn the difference.”

She flushed a bit in embarrassment. “I-I know the difference.”

“Do you?”

“Y-Yes! And I’m worried!” she said as she struggled to get up, boldly moving to straddle him which made him raise a brow. “I’m… I’m always worried for you, m-my Jarl.”

“Is that so?” he looked her over and she flushed.

“Yes…” she replied and she leaned down, kissing him for a moment. When she parted their eyes met and he stared at her with an almost moody expression before he reached up and pushed her head down, kissing her back. She moved against him, her small chest pressed against his, her fingers moving to touch his neck but he turned them and she yelped as she fell onto her side.

He pulled her to him, their bodies flush and his tongue went in her mouth and she clung to him as he dominated her. She couldn’t move much due to their position but she felt him brush her thigh making her break to look down. He was getting hard again and she bit her lip and looked to him which made him growl. Her hand slid down and she stroked his semi-erect cock, her fingers gentle while his moved over her shoulder.

She spread herself helping guide him in and he took her once again making her cry out. It was sloppy, just as their previous session had been but she didn’t care. Her left leg slung over his hip, her hands on his shoulder as she struggled to kiss him and him to dominate her. They were still exhausted but needed the other and she panted loudly when he sucked on her tongue.

She was switched and he took her from behind, her right leg being held as he thrust into her, his fingers moving down to pet her clit as he did making her struggle and hold herself up on her forearms. He kissed her shoulder while she cried out his name and their bucking soon became frantic as they both started to get off.

She reached between herself, her fingers stroking his cock every time he briefly pulled out of her, the tips soon becoming slick with their combined fluids while he worked her clit mercilessly until she was shaking.

He only stopped so he could grip her below her breasts and hold her tight to his body, his thrusting hard and erratic making her cry out and struggle on the bed. He sucked the tip of her right ear making her clench around him and finally he came, his seed filling her again though it wasn’t as plentiful as before. He pulled out making her whine and his mouth replaced his cock, sucking her clit until she was on her back and thrashing, coming herself.

She could barely keep her eyes open and could only lay submissively before him when he kissed her, the taste of herself and his semen on her tongue. He purred, rubbing her exhausted body, his breaths short and quick as he tried to calm down and they finally collapsed again, him half on top of her and she groaned as she felt his wet cock against her thigh.

They panted in tune until she licked her lips. “Sidd… geir…”

He could barely form a word. “…hat…”

Everything ached. “…No… more.”

For once, he agreed. “…Ye…ah.”

He pulled the blankets around them again, tight, with his last bit of strength and she was held flush to his back, her hands gripping his as they slid around her waist while she struggled with her exhaustion. It finally won over and she fell asleep before she could hear what else he had to say.

It was only in the morning did he repeat himself as he wiped off the dried fluids from his body as she fetched his clothes. “Despite your… concern… we’re going to Riften.”

She pursed her lips but didn’t argue. “Yes, my Jarl.”

“Hey,” he said making her stop to look to him. “Come here.”

She did as he said and he grabbed her tunic, pulling it up making her flush and his fingers touched her making her fidget. He drew them back, looking at them quietly before he reached up and began to finger her making her shake and grip his expensive robes tight. “…M-My-! M-My Jarl!”

He said nothing, focused on what he was doing and she was soon struggling to stand, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as she felt herself becoming overwhelmed with the sense to come. When she was about to, her fingers shaking and her body clenching but he pulled away making her cry out.

“S-Siddgeir-!”

“You’ll be rewarded tonight,” he said in a casual tone which made her stare at him, almost losing her mind. “If you don’t piss me off today.”

She bit her lip, struggling, her legs shaking and her body aching and he merely smiled and got up, grabbing his clothes from her. She whimpered. “….M…My Jarl…”

“Be a good girl,” he commanded making her flush. “And I’ll really make you tired tonight.”

She could only nod, still shaking, her desire making her near crazy but she knew to obey him. “I’ll be a good girl, m-my Jarl.”

He smirked and brought his fingers up to her lips allowing her to suck them as a small reward. “You better.”


	45. Right This Second (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Let's get some clothes-tearing, time-restrictive sex going on where the emphasis is on getting off as fast as possible for both parties and those panties being ripped to the point they can't be worn. Hot, fast and to the finish line. I'd like either a Nord, Orc, or Imperial male lover doing the tearing since they seem like the aggressive type and the female can be any race.

“Can we bloody well take a break?” Igmund’s voice rang out making all eyes turn to him then back to Elisif who held her quill tightly within her grasp. “We’ve been slaving at this for hours! Having a quick minute to take a piss and stretch should be allowed, not keep us all here until we’re done!”

The Jarl of Solitude said nothing, her lips pressed tight and all eyes went to her. It was General Tullius who spoke for her. “Yes, well, maybe a break would do us good seeing as how progress really hasn’t been met,” he said and there was a collective sigh amongst the lesser Jarls of the Empire, their Thanes and Housecarls below the second story hall looking up. “We’ll break for a quick meal but then all of you need to be back here and ready to compromise.”

Kjersti looked to Nenya who closed her book and stared at the wall listening to the sounds of chairs being pulled against the stone. There was a light air of chatter that came, some of the Jarls wandering down to their housecarls to temporarily leave into the streets of Solitude and Kjersti watched as her Jarl came down, quiet, his eyes tired and his shoulders seeming stiff. He ignored her as he went to Nenya, looking her over.

“Why do you not have a drink for me?” he said and Nenya glared at him.

“Siddgeir, we are not your maids nor are we mind-readers,” she scolded making him roll his eyes. “Please think before you demand things.”

“Whatever,” he said, rubbing his neck. “Go get me a drink then. I’m tired of the disgusting waters of this place.” Nenya glared at him and Kjersti gave a bow making him turn on her. “Not you. Nenya!”

Nenya sighed through her teeth. “I’ll fetch you some mead from the kitchen.”

“Are you daft?” he scowled. “Go buy me some spiced wine. From that stall in the market. Two bottles and make sure they’re fresh!”

“Siddgeir,” Nenya rubbed the bridge of her nose, the Jarl glaring at her and she began muttering under her breath. “…Should have hit you more when you were a child.”

“Now, Nenya!” he said in a more commanding tone and she looked to Kjersti who flushed, giving her a look of sympathy.

“I don’t know how you put up with this,” she said but she took her leave, the door being held open for her by the Jarl of Morthal’s housecarl, a small smile being exchanged between them. Kjersti looked to Siddgeir who had moved back, standing next to her.

“I could have fetched you the wine, my Jarl,” she said frowning at him when his hand grabbing her backside made her stiffen.

“No, you couldn’t. You’re needed for something else,” he muttered and she turned a bright red. Surely he didn’t mean-? “This meeting is boring me and we’ve only got a little bit of time. Go down past the kitchen down to the end of the hall. There’s a door before the stairs. Enter it and wait.”

“W-Why?” she had to ask and his mouth was against her ear, snarling.

“Because I want a fuck and I told you to! Now go before I take you on your knees in front of everyone here!” he snapped and she immediately moved away, hurrying past the guards as her face flushed red. 

She rushed down the hall, nearly running into a few servants who were in a hurry themselves to bring up more water and supplies for the meeting, their feet skidding on the stones and she came to the door, opening it quickly to pop in. There was no one inside but two large beds placed in the room. Her heart began to pound, her eyes moving to the door and she realized it had no lock.

Anyone could come in. Surely, there was somewhere else. She began to pace, awkwardly standing as it started to dawn on her what was going to happen. There were dignitaries, the General of the Army, his Legate, housecarls, servants, the other Jarls all in the palace and her own Jarl wanted to take her in a semi-public area while they were. She wrung her dress, her cheeks turning red and when the door opened she turned to see him silently enter, shutting it behind him.

“We can’t!” she blurted out before he did anything and he glared at her. “Siddgeir! We’re going to get caught!”

“Keep your voice down then,” he said, producing a small bottle from his pocket making her stare. She started frantically pacing again, holding her cheeks.

“Siddgeir! If we’re discovered-!” she began to babble and he rolled his eyes.

“I doubt if anyone would be surprised at you throwing yourself at me,” he said. She flushed even more.

“M-My Jarl!”

“Will you shut up?” he snapped, coming to grab her, pulling her against his body making her whimper. Despite them being the same height he always made her feel small and weak next to him which in turn made her shake. “If there is a spell for making yourself be quiet, then cast it on yourself!” 

She bit her lip, silencing herself and he gripped her head, roughly kissing her. She whimpered, arching towards him and his hands began to roam, grabbing her backside again, spreading her as they kissed. She panted into his mouth, her tongue meeting his out of instinct and he made her roll her hips against his, the emphasis on their closeness going to her head.

His hand went down, grabbing her robes to pull them up, his fingers slipping into her underwear and she gasped, arching against him. His fingers were so warm and she pursed her lips, trying not to thrust. He stared at her, his eyes flicking down for a moment and she turned a deep shade of crimson, covering her mouth. “You’re wet.”

She exhaled. “S-Siddgeir…”

He continued to stare at her but he slowly began to smile. “I knew you would be into this you little harlot. Figures.” She stared at him blushing deeply, her thighs clenching against his wrist and he licked his lips. “Just spread your legs for me.”

She did so, reaching down to grab her robes as his fingers searched her and his free hand moved to grip her back so she continued to be flush against him; she let out a needy pant, whimpering when he rubbed her folds to encourage her to open more for him, her fingers finding his arms to grip them in desperation and he nipped at her ear before he looked over his shoulder at the door. There were footsteps sounding outside, the various servants running back and forth and he nodded to her. “Go lean against it.”

“W-Why?” she absently asked and one look made her swallow her stupid questions and move, her back hitting the door. He was against her, kissing her neck, her underwear being roughly pulled down and he began to kneel. She stared, her cheeks still flushed. “M-My Jarl?”

He shot her a look making her cover her mouth and she watched him, her desire rising in herself as he roughly ripped her panties down, tearing the fabric leaving a hole along the side. His fingers pried her apart as if she was some cheap lay in a bunkhouse and she let out a small cry. He said nothing, licking a few fingers to rub her again and he drew back making her whimper before his mouth was on her making her arch, her back hitting the door. He had only ever gone down on her once before, the memory fresh in her mind and she had to bite her collar, her hands moving down to grab at his hair as his tongue hit her.

“S-Siddgeir!” she choked, trying hard not to cry out his name and he licked her, his tongue flicking against her clit while his fingers moved up to prod her. Her knees shook and he pulled back making her whine in protest.

“Steady yourself,” he commanded and she swallowed the cry in her throat, her fingers pulling at her hem desperately.

“I-It feels…”

“I know,” he muttered. “But I don’t have the time to deal with you being greedy for an orgasm. I need you wet so stop squirming.” He was back on her, his fingers pushing into her trying to get ready and she shifted in discomfort, panting at his tongue. He was desperate, licking in circles, his fingers joining to make her jerk and try hard not to grind against him and he moved back making her beg. He produced the bottle, the cork being tossed and she was hit with fluid, her entrance becoming soaked and his fingers moving in easier. He gave her a few more licks before he was up, undoing his belt. She remained against the door, watching and she bit her lip.

She reached to help him but he refused it, adjusting himself, and she was pulled into his arms, one of his hands grabbing her leg. She struggled to remain standing while he aligned himself. “Don’t you fucking clench,” he hissed and she panted against his neck, her arms moving to wrap around him.

“I-I won’t, my Jarl,” she promised and he scowled at her but began pushing it. She struggled more with trying to remain standing, her breathing uncomfortable since she was pressed so tight against him and he used the door for leverage, her mouth hitting his. He pushed in more and she broke away. “F-Fuck me!”

He panted himself, his crown slipping on his head. “I plan to, you stupid elf.”

One strong buck and she let out a cry, throwing her arms around his neck, clutching him hard. She was pressed hard against the door, shaking as he pulled back and he was in her again, his mouth over his to swallow her cries. Their rhythm started rough, the position the problem and he finally grabbed her and forced her around, taking her from behind as she was against the door.

She arched her back “S-Siddgeir!”

“S-Shut up! Lest you want someone to come in and see you!” he snapped and she grabbed her robes, biting the collar in response as they fell back into a quick, desperate thrusting. She scratched the door, panting hard and he forced her head back, her robes falling and he kissed her a few times before moving to her neck. She let him, whimpering his name as he became rougher.

She could hear the sounds of clapping outside, Elisif calling for everyone to return upstairs but they weren’t done, her desire only starting to build. He grabbed her waist, his nails dragging over her base stomach and she thrust back, struggling hard not to make noise.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged, feeling his cock drive further into her, his control slipping. “T-They’re… c-calling you back!” His tongue hit the back of her ear and she cried out, her nails dragging down the door as she spread her legs, her mind scrambling. “Siddgeir!”

“In a minute!” he barked into her ear and his nails dug into her hip making her stop focusing on the footsteps outside, the calls from the Jarl, and the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor. She could feel herself losing it, her hips moving on their own and she grabbed his hand, moving it down to her clit, begging him to help her.

He did so making her nearly thrash and she pressed against the door, feeling it shake with their thrusts. “S-Siddgeir! I-I’m-!”

He slapped her shoulder making her cry out and he continued his rough stroking, his own thrusts becoming erratic and she came first, fighting as she gave out a silent scream. He held her steady, his grip tight and she felt him give a few long, hard thrusts, stilling himself inside her before he tensed, his breath against her neck. She knew he had come when he slammed into her roughly a few times, making sure he claimed her and he pulled out, letting go and she fell to the floor.

He panted above, moving behind her and she sat on the stones, come dripping from her body, her mind scrambled and fuzzy. She looked to see him grab her panties, wiping himself off with them before he adjusted himself, smoothing his hair back. He stepped over her, nudging her away from the door. “G-Go back to Nenya.”

She nodded, pushing her robes down and he tossed her panties back to her and left. She remained for a minute to catch her breath, slowly standing on shaking legs and she stuffed her panties into her pocket, slipping out the door into the silent hall. It was empty leaving her room to collect herself and she went into the entrance hall finding Nenya sitting on a bench looking irritated, two bottles of wine by her feet. She looked up when she saw her and Kjersti took the seat next to her, exhaling hard as she did.

“There you are! Where’s Siddgeir?” she asked and Kjersti said nothing, merely nodding up to the second floor. Nenya sighed. “I suppose as long as he’s still attending the meeting I should feel relieved. Still. His attitude is getting worse.”

Kjersti nodded, her head still light and she felt the Steward’s eyes focus on her, looking at her in a strange way. “Are you alright?”

She nodded again and the Altmer reached up, placing a hand against her forehead. “You’re awfully warm, Kjersti. Are you not feeling well?”

She flushed and shook her head. “I-I’m fine.”

It took one long look from her before she seemed to realize and she gave her a disappointed look. “Kjersti, why.”

She shifted, fidgeting with her dress. “I-I don’t know...”

“You do realize how selfish he is? This isn’t healthy!” she hissed and Kjersti flushed, twisting her robes more.

“But I like him,” she stressed and Nenya sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Why is it always our race that suffers when it comes to wisdom in our youth?” she asked and Kjersti frowned at her not understanding. “My dear girl… we must have a chat when we get back.”

“…W-Why?”

“Because. We just do.”


	46. Verbatim (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I just need a guy going down on a girl and making her come too many times. Someone with a verrrrry talented tongue. Any races and NPCs (if Anons don't want to include the DB then just go wild with NPCs.

“A festival?” his Thane said excited and he looked up from his book, annoyed. His damn Altmer Thane was looking to Nenya in excitement and the steward was indulging her, carrying around some pelts that had been drying outside, the younger one taking a few to help. “What happens at a festival?”

Nenya chuckled and he rolled his eyes and went back to looking at his book though he was listening. “It’s not a very big, festival. It’s mostly just a travelling band that comes to the Inn and plays but there will be food and drinks and everyone in town goes to have fun.”

“Not everyone,” he said rather loudly and both looked to him but he didn’t look up. He flipped the page, not even reading at the words and he heard Nenya sigh.

“Mostly everyone,” she said and she disappeared upstairs with his Thane following. He sighed and shut his book, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he could feel a headache coming, their conversation irritating him greatly. Slowly he got up, cracking his back before he started on his knuckles and he dropped the book on his throne, making his way into his old wine cellar. Skulnar was sitting on his cot while Helvard was standing near him, both oiling the small collection of swords he had.

They said nothing, merely nodding to him and he nodded back as he went to his stash of Black-Briar mead, fetching a bottle before he pulled out his dagger and cut off the top. It bubbled, the smell welcoming as the fermented honey hit his senses and he went back out, going to the door to open it and check out at his Hold as he drank. The damned blacksmith was pounding away at a blade and his father was chopping wood for the Inn, chatting to his Uncle’s servant or slave or whatever in oblivion she was. Some mousy girl who put her lot in with the wrong man.

He let the door shut and wandered back to his throne, grabbing his book before dropping down on it as Nenya and his Thane came out of her room, giggling. He watched them feeling his headache start pounding and he growled, flipping open his book again, taking a long drink of the sweet mead. He sighed to himself, making a mental note to send Maven a letter of praise.

“What do you wear to this?” his Thane was asking and Nenya gave a shrug as she went into the wine cellar.

“You can wear anything. Some of the girls dress up… or dress down, depending on your definition. I’m sure there’s an outfit we can find you.”

He had enough.

“Nenya!” he called and there was a pause but she eventually came out, his Thane following like a puppy. He looked behind her to the stupid girl and he snapped his fingers, pointing at his feet. She flushed and came forth, bowing to him and he brought his feet up, his heels hitting the girl’s shoulders making her wince and his steward glare at him. “Who said you could go to this?”

Her tongue pressed against her cheek. “Siddgeir,” she said in a flat tone. “We go every year.”

“You can,” he said right back and he pointed down at the girl under his feet. “She can’t.”

His Thane immediately looked up and he caught her eye, staring her down until she lowered her eyes respectfully. He smirked to himself over it and took a drink of his mead while Nenya glared at him. He snorted at her. “Someone has to stay and protect me. Unless you really want to encourage an assassin to come in and kill me while you all drink with those whores at the Inn.”

He felt his Thane stiffen under his feet at his words and he knew he probably had her hooked. Nenya crossed her arms.

“You’ve stayed in the Longhouse alone before.”

“Times have changed,” he cut back and she came forward, ready to fight with him over it making him raise his head but his Thane spoke.

“I-I’ll stay,” she said making them look down. “I’ll stay.”

He smiled and moved his feet off her, reaching down to bring her chin up so their eyes met and he gave her a smile which made her flush. “Good girl,” he purred and he could practically see her blood rush through her body, her hands fidgeting and he looked to Nenya in triumph. She grit her teeth but said nothing. He slumped back, hitting his throne and he opened his book, flipping to the page he had initially been on drinking his mead as he did. Nenya sighed and looked to the girl at his feet before she resigned to moving around the Longhouse alone. She took up residence up near her room with several rolls of paper and an inkwell and his Thane sat before him, obedient and silent.

He looked down at her a few times but her head was bowed and she was silent. He dismissed her once she started to bore him, letting her go back to her initial duties of doing errands around the town and Nenya came back down to him once she had left.

“Siddgeir, let her come,” she said and he stared at her.

“No. Why should I?” he said, twirling his bottle in his hands and she stared at him in disappointment.

“You keep her chained to you like she’s one of your hounds. She needs to be able to be without you,” she said and he furrowed his brows at her in annoyance.

“She does. When she goes out and cleanses the Hold, she’s not with me, is she?” he pointed out and he watched the Altmer press her lips together. “Besides, she swore her life to me and I expect to make sure she makes good on that. I am her Jarl, and may I remind you yours? So get off my back.”

Nenya said nothing but she moved back upstairs leaving him a bit irritated and he tossed his book on the floor drinking deep into his bottle. He really hated how his damn steward did that to him. So what if he controlled his Thane? She knew what she was getting in to when she accepted the title. Besides, she never complained – not that he would care if she did.

He got up and went to his room, sorting through his dresser before he thought for a moment. He would just have to show his stupid Thane why listening to him was better than Nenya. He shouldn’t have to, gods above, but if Nenya was going to keep complicating his damn life then he might as well.

He came back out and went up to her, giving her a look as she sat at the table quiet. He grabbed some paper, scribbling something down and he shoved it at her making her stiffen.

“Order that,” he muttered and she looked down and flushed. She didn’t say anything but her discomfort made him smile and he took the last drink from his bottle, setting it down before her. “Now, Nenya.”

“Fine,” she hissed and he went back down, pleased.

\--

He watched as Nenya got ready to leave, Skulnar and Helvard behind her as they came to the door. His Thane smiled at them, a slight hint of jealousy in her expression and Nenya patted her arm.

“We won’t be long,” she said and she turned to look at the men behind her to confirm they were ready. Once they had, they left, Skulnar shutting the door behind him leaving him alone with his Thane, her expression tense but she was silent. He went into the cellar, grabbing a few bottles of mead and he moved to his room, placing them on his table as she followed, stopping to wait obediently by his throne.

He went back to her, giving her a look over and she blushed a bit. “M-My Jarl,” she said in her typical meek tone. “Is there anything you wish me to get for you?”

He said nothing, still looking her over. She was in her typical purple robes, her body hidden beneath them and he reached forward, his hands touching near where her waist should be. She flushed deeply at his simple action and he looked at her.

“Go into my room,” he commanded and she bit her lip but obeyed, wobbling slightly as she stepped down the small stairs and she made her way to his room. He followed, looking to the front door for a minute as if doing so would deter anyone from coming and he stepped into his room, closing the door. He walked past her, giving her another look which made her blush even further and he grabbed the pitcher on his dresser, pouring himself a drink.

He leaned against it, studying her again and she was fidgeting with her dress as she did when she was nervous. His eyes moved down to where he was going to spend most of his night as he judged how he was going to do this. He licked his lips, taking a drink and he tapped his fingers on his goblet.

“Kjersti,” he finally said her name and she looked to him. “Get those stupid robes off.”

She flushed deeply, fidgeting more but she obeyed his command. She pulled them off, hesitant before she placed them on the floor and she crossed her arms over her chest, modest. He didn’t care and his eyes moved down to her panties. These ones had a black string and he found himself staring at them. They were new. All the better to ruin them.

He swallowed the rest of his water, placing the goblet down and he went to her side, his fingers brushing over her hip again making her flush. Her skin was covered in a few scars but there was still a softness to it that only a woman seemed to hold causing him to slide his fingers over her more. He leaned over, kissing her jaw and she flushed, dipping her head down a bit shyly. He reached down, ghosting over her stomach and he touched the top of her underwear making her shiver.

“Get on the bed,” he muttered into her ear and she did, crawling on all fours for a moment before she turned, nervously laid out for him. He studied her, her lithe frame not exactly desirable but he could make do and he kicked off his boots, tugging on the chain that held his furs to his neck. They were dropped to hang on the post of the bed and he climbed on, purposely looking her entire body over.

A blush filled her cheeks and she reached up to cover her chest, her thighs pressing together. He slapped them making her spread and she gazed up at him, their eyes meeting and she started to chew her lip. He almost wanted to fuck her right then and there. Not that she would complain but as much as he loved quickies, this was about establishing his ownership.

“This,” he said quietly. “Is a one-time thing, understand? Don’t expect this all the fucking time.”

She blinked. “E-Expect what?”

“You’ll see,” he muttered and he moved down focused on her damn underwear. He contemplated just getting to it but somehow it wouldn’t be as satisfying just going down on her directly. He paused for a moment, recalling the years ago when he did lay with that mouthy travelling Dunmer and her damned instructions and he sighed internally.

He leaned down, his breath caressing her stomach making her whimper and he kissed her gently just above the edge of her panties. She tensed and he kissed her again, trailing around the top before moving down to her thighs. She exhaled, her hands fidgeting on her chest and he forced her legs apart more, licking the inside of her thigh. He went down but still didn’t go near where she was obviously aching, her whimpering increasing and he looked up at her.

She was flushed, biting her lip with shivers running up her body and he smiled to himself. Of course she was begging for him. He roughly grabbed her, forcing her lower body up more so she was practically spread out for him and he continued dragging his tongue on her thighs making her whimper more. He sucked on small parts of her skin, marking her despite the fact he knew no one would ever see them but him and she started to fidget, her toes curling.

“Relax,” he growled and she did. It was the one thing he did like about her; every word he said she would obey. There were a couple times where he did have to remind her to smarten the fuck up but they were becoming fewer as the days went on. He looked at her, how her cheeks were permanently flushed, her eyes full of adoration and lust but her body language still shy and he scoffed. He'd change that.

He dragged his tongue down to where a small part of her was peeking out from under her panties and he breathed over her, lingering to make her really squirm before he kissed the exposed skin. She jerked and panted, his name being groaned and he smiled to himself as his ego was stroked a bit. He kissed it again, nipping at the skin before he moved up again, his fingers running over her body, over what was his.

He kissed her roughly to make sure she knew who was in charge and she melted into him, whimpering against his lips. He reached down, his fingers stroking her through her underwear and he could feel she was wet from his simple actions alone. “My, Thane,” he muttered as he purposely rubbed in a light motion around near where her clit was making her arch her back. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re practically dripping.”

“I-I can’t…” she whimpered, panting and flushing as she gripped at his arms. “I can’t help it…”

“Please,” he growled, teasing her more as he stopped his light circles and moved to giving long strokes making her shift. “Have some damn restraint.”

She bit her lip giving him a pleading look and he pressed his lips against hers before he went back down. He could see the outline of her against her underwear and he finally went down to lick. The fabric molded to her more as he did and she arched her back, tensing until he slapped her backside. He worked her from there, teasing her by kissing around where she needed it, sucking the fabric instead of her and she shook in desperate need, her fingers being bit as he kissed the side of her pussy. “M-My Jarl!”

He leaned up, looking down at his work and he traced her with the tip of her tongue making her nearly scream, his name being panted hard now.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged and he pulled away causing her to groan in frustration. He licked his thumb and pressed it against her making her tense.

“Calm yourself, you stupid elf,” he said, his rubbing a bit rough to start and the sloppy wet sounds of the fabric and her pussy meeting made him inwardly grin. He went back down, soaking her more until he finally tired of tasting woven thread and he grabbed her panties ripping them off her body making her shout. He went down on her, his tongue directly hitting her warm, dripping slit and she cried out, kicking on the bed. Before he could hold her down she came with a cry and he stared at her, her hips bucking and her stomach tense.

He let her fall to the bed, her thighs shaking and he scoffed. “I barely touched you,” he chastised but she didn’t respond. “Kjersti!”

She whimpered. “S…Siddgeir…” her toes curled and she slowly tried closing her legs but he wouldn’t let her, keeping them spread for himself. She swallowed, shifting on the bed. He leaned down touching her and she whimpered as his fingers stroked her wet folds. He brought his fingers up to her lips making her taste herself and she shyly sucked on them, her tongue running over the tips.

He hated to admit it but it was turning him on. This damn elf. He pulled his fingers away and kissed her again making her moan, her body submissive to him. He gave her some recovery time, focusing on dominating her mouth as he waited and when she started tugging at his body he went back down, sinking his tongue into her. She arched her back, nearly tensing but he dug his nails into her thigh making her stop.

He licked her a few times, enough to get her wet and he leaned up, staring at her. “Tighten for me,” he demanded and he watched as she did, the muscles in her thigh and stomach doing so as well and he went back down, hovering to just breathe against her again making her whine louder than he expected.

“S-Siddgeir… Please… I need it…” she begged. He moved up making her shiver, helpless and he smirked.

“I’m sorry, I’m getting tired,” he shrugged and she nearly screamed, thrashing on his bed.

“N-No, no, please, please,” she started babbling. “Please, don’t leave me like this! Please, my Jarl! I-I’ll do anything!” She grabbed at him but he avoided it, smiling inwardly at her desperation. “M-My Jarl! Please! I need you!”

“You need me?” he teased and she whined again, her voice dripping with lust. He contemplated letting her stew for a few minutes but her panting and squirming and her utter dependence on him made him relent. He went back down giving her a long, hot lick and she nearly came from it, her voice high as it escaped her. He slapped her ass. “No coming, Thane.”

“S-Sorry,” she said, tense and shivering and he spread her, licking deep, her folds sweet and his fingers rubbing her gently. He gave her a few long licks, rushing her clit when he did to make her scream but he moved into a rhythm he was comfortable with, focused on teasing her. His damned roll with that dunmer did teach him a few things he had to admit and the squirming, still practically virginal Altmer under him was new to it making him feel like some sort of sex god as she started whining his name.

She reached down, her fingers tugging his hair and he growled, nipping at her clit making her hips roll. He could feel her continuously moving towards an orgasm, her shifting on the bed a good indication and he stepped it up, his fingers moving to tease her entrance while he trailed his tongue in a circle around her slightly exposed clit. She started to breathe harder, her stomach tensing and her body shaking and he gave her more wet licks, letting his saliva drip down from her pussy. Gods, she was soaked now, every motion he did making wet, sloppy sounds and she groaned deep.

“Siddgeir, I need it! Please! I need you!”

He ignored her, flicking his tongue against her clit making her shout, her entire body tensing and he kissed her labia, pulling the folds before he went back down, focusing exclusively on teasing her just to stroke his ego. He only lightly pushed into her body, not giving her what she wanted and he made her clit the priority. It took her barely any time to come, her cries loud as she did. Her hands gripped at his hair while she did, her hips bucking and he tasted her as she became practically drenched, lapping at her body almost hungrily. When he pulled back slightly his lips were wet with her come, some of it starting to drip down and he slapped her hands off his head as he leaned up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

She fell down, her chest rising and falling and she looked as if he had just fucked her, her hair starting to stick to her neck. He took a mental snapshot, loving how she kept whimpering his name and he leaned over her, his hands burying into her hair. She opened her weary eyes, biting her lip and he forced her up, kissing her. He tugged her hair, his fingers moving through the strands and when they parted he looked down at her. She lay uselessly against him and whimpered. He smirked. "Idiot."

She said nothing to his insult and he took to running his hands through her hair. It had gotten a bit longer but it still wasn’t up to his desired length. He wanted to be able to really grab her as he rode her, to remind her who she was in service to and she panted, gripping him. He glanced to her and she leaned up, kissing his neck, her desire coming back. He allowed her to suck on him, trying hard to please him which she was doing an adequate job of. He wasn’t much of a fan of her marking his skin; doing so usually raised questions which he never was in the mood to answer.

He shoved her off after a moment making her yelp and he moved off his bed, finally tugging his robes off until he was just in his summer tunic – if you could call it that since summer didn’t exist in his damn Hold – and he went to grab a bottle of mead to drink off the table. He swirled it around in his mouth, swallowing before he turned back. She moved lazily on his bed, still clinging to the aftermath of her second orgasm but she turned over, staring at him. He stared right back and her eyes went down.

“M-My Jarl,” she said leaning up a bit licking her lips. He waited and she shifted, her legs drawing up so she was half-sitting. “Please. Let me… Take care of you.”

He came forward, watching her quietly and she inched to the side of the bed, reaching down to touch his erect cock. He said nothing, letting her draw his tunic up and her mouth went down on him eagerly. He took a drink, reaching down to pet her hair and she tried to please him as he did to her. He angled her head after a moment, not satisfied with her desperate attempt.

“Use your tongue,” he ordered and she did. He pushed her down more. “Relax your throat.”

She did.

He took another drink, his breath catching as she sucked at his tip and she went down more, his hand cupping the back of her head as she did. He watched her suck him, her legs dragging up and closing tight as she started getting noisy, her cheeks flushing and he let out a ragged sigh. Slowly she was getting him off and he took another drink, lingering on the bottle as she started using her hand with her mouth, going up and down him effortlessly. He gripped her hair tight, shutting his eyes as he started feeling it and she pulled off, panting, her lips moving over his shaft and he forced her to take his length again, hissing. This damn elf. He nearly dropped his bottle as she went to the base, her throat swallowing him, her moaning running through his body and he felt his stomach tighten. He was starting to lose it.

He groaned despite himself. This stupid fucking elf. She was so eager on him, nearly forcing him to come and he dug his nails into her skull, trying to hold her still but she brought him too far. He let her continue until his nerves were on end, until he wanted to fuck her damn pussy until she was screaming and he took a drink before he came, biting the bottle as she teased him. He thrust into her damn mouth as he released, gripping the back of her head tight and she swallowed it, pulling off with a small cry. He breathed out, trying to collect himself when he looked to see her licking her lips, moaning slightly and he tossed his half drunken bottle down she stared at him and licked her fingers. Damn fucking stupid elf.

"Siddgeir!" she cried when he threw her down but he didn't care. He was there to remind her who controlled who and his mouth was back on her lapping at her pussy tasting what was damn well his. His fingers joined, teasing her clit hard and she cried out, bucking, not ready for his assault. He smirked to himself, his own body still a bit hot from his own release making him a bit eager and he pushed his fingers into her, pumping while he lapped at her throbbing body. Her breathing rapidly increased and her body started shaking, thrusting back against him until he curled his fingers up, looking for that sweet spot that he knew would make her come and she thrashed.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried, moving to get away but he forced her back, tonguing her clit, finding that damned sweet spot to tease and she started shouting. If there was anyone in the Longhouse they would have heard her for sure and he milked it, making her scream his name, his blankets being torn and bed moving on the stones as she came, releasing fast. He pulled back, still fingering her as he licked his lips and her head was thrown back, her back arched almost painfully as she clenched around him and he smirked.

That was how it should be; her helpless below him because of what he did to her. That was the power trip he enjoyed.

“S-S-Siddgeir!” she cried out again, clenching hard around him. She let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls before she collapsed, her body hitting the covered straw with a loud thunk. He pulled out, his hand dripping from her release as her body still twisted below him and he grabbed her, forcing her to kiss him. She was still shaking, barely able to focus and he nipped at her ear making her moan.

“Aren’t you a good girl,” he smiled and she panted, trying hard to keep her eyes open but she was failing. He let her lay down as she was still reveling in her now third orgasm and he watched her, her small chest rising up and down. He reached down, touching her right breast and she whimpered, covering herself which made him growl.

She looked to him wearily, biting her lip. “N-Not there.”

He scowled. “Idiot,” he snapped but he relented. He wasn’t very impressed with her chest anyways but her telling him what to do did irritate him. But then again her utter submission to him did turn him on more than anything and he reached between her legs again making her shiver. She was probably sore but he didn’t care. He went back down, kissing her slit and she moaned.

“S-Siddgeir… please…” she whimpered and he glanced up at her, her flushed expression making him pause. “I want you… in me.”

He scoffed quietly. “Of course you do,” he muttered, going back down to tease her again. She started moaning again rather quick as he cleaned her, her sticky come on his tongue and he pushed his fingers back into her, feeling her tense. He was more concerned about solidifying her loyalty to him and he was gentle this time taking her off guard. She whimpered from above, twisting and he smiled to himself. It was almost too easy.

He didn’t relent until she had come three more times. Each time she became louder, his name echoing through the Longhouse and his blankets became stained with her come and saliva and he milked it for all its worth. He didn’t stop during the fourth time, encouraging her more as the looser she got the more she was desperate for him and she was kissing his neck hotly when he finally pushed her on her side, his hands running over her smooth skin. She tried to move back up but he slapped her backside, biting her shoulder making her whimper. Her hair was sticking to her neck, sweat covering her body and he was hard again, nudging her thigh.

He stopped and moved off the bed, kicking open his dresser to pull out a small box which he had made Nenya order for him despite how much she didn’t want to. Inside was thick lubricant which had been sent from Morrowind, carefully packed so the bottles wouldn’t break. If those Dunmer women knew anything it was how to make good lubricant which didn’t surprise him but he appreciated it. He came back, slapping her ass making her yelp and he pulled the cork off, coating his fingers before he coated her. She was already wet but this made her slick and hot and he could barely wait as he used the rest on his cock. He pushed her legs open, ignoring her whimpers and he pinned her down, her body spread open for him.

He stared at her, drinking in how she was panting for him, her eyes only on him and he leaned over. “Kjersti,” he hissed and she flushed. “What do you want?”

“You,” she said immediately, twisting under his hands wanting him inside. He restrained himself but he kissed the side of her mouth to tease her, pleased with her answer.

“Good girl,” he complimented. “Good fucking girl.” She groaned at his words and he nipped at her ear making her jerk, panting after in anticipation. “I want you shouting my name, got it?” She nodded at his words and he reached down, pushing her thighs apart more as he teased her, purposely not going in which made her whimper.

She gripped his arms. “Siddgeir, please.”

“What?” he growled and she bit her lip, her nails dragging down his arms almost helpless which made him smirk. “Tell me what you want.”

“Y-You,” she said again and he scoffed.

“What do you want,” he emphasized.

“You!” she begged more and he grabbed her arms, pinning her down again, grinding against her but not entering making her twist, gasping.

“What do you want?” he hissed against her ear, tugging at her earlobe making her cry out. “Tell me what you want me to do, you stupid fucking elf!”

She finally got it and he was nearly at his limit himself, his cock dripping from how worked up he was getting. “I-I want you to fuck me!”

“Louder!”

“Fuck me!” she shouted, twisting in his grip. “P-Please, fuck me Siddgeir!”

He plunged into her making her howl and he groaned himself, how damn hot she was making him fuck without a thought. He didn’t allow her to relax, unable to himself and he was on her, forcing her against him as she started crying out, her legs moving to wrap around him. He bit her neck, losing himself for a moment as he pounded his damned squirming elf and she cried his name as her arms came around his neck. She tried to kiss him but he pulled back, pinning her arms down again to dominate her. He was there to make her submissive to his whims, not let her easily get off like they were equals.

He gripped her neck for a second, watching her breath stop, her insides clenching and he kissed her in response, moving up to grip her hair and force her head back. She wailed. “S-Siddgeir!” she shouted. “M-My Jarl! My Jarl, I-I’m-!”

He ignored her, fucking her harder but at the rate she was losing it he pulled out and grabbed her waist, tossing her on her side before he re-entered, biting the back of her neck to knock her off guard. She cried out, helpless but she started squirming again in desperation making him groan.

“You stupid fucking elf,” he hissed, holding her down again so she was restricted under him and she panted, kicking at the blankets below.

“Siddgeir! Siddgeir, gods! D-Don’t stop!” she cried and he pushed her head down, tangling his hands into her black hair as he marked her neck more, the red kisses bright on her golden skin. “S-SIDDGEIR!”

He said nothing, a low growl stuck in his throat as her damned hot and eager body was causing him to lose it. She was still as tight as the day he first took her, her squirming and weak thrusts welcome against him, her cries loud enough to be heard outside his room and he stopped focusing on dominating her as to now getting off. She didn’t seem to protest and he let his mind go as he just took her like some savage animal.

She shook against him at some point, grabbing his hand to force it between her legs to help and he hissed as she tightened, how much she called for him, the bed creaking from her thrusts back and he could tell when she came by her actions. She became wild and he had to nearly flatten her to stop but her damned motions were affecting him and he could only hold her twisting body to his own as he started getting close, his legs starting to shake.

He really couldn’t remember much up to that point other than he probably held her a little too tight to himself but that wasn’t his problem. She didn’t complain – she rather became more eager – and he didn’t bother pulling out as he finally hit his damn limit. He came inside her panting body, his nails digging into her skin as he did to make her tighten and his mind was filled with something incomprehensible and he merely fucked until his hips hurt and until she was whimpering his name again, her body hot and wet.

He hissed and bit at her ear, his mind slowly coming back as he eased off as the sweat cooled on the back of his neck. He didn’t roll off her, not right away but once he did, the bed felt like a relief. It was cold against his back and neck and his tunic stuck to him making him sigh. He relaxed, touching the bridge of his nose where he could feel his head throbbing but this time it wasn't from a headache. He was exhausted and he licked his lips, still tasting her on them.

She lay uselessly beside him, her legs moving up and she moaned as she reached between herself. He watched as she bit her lip, pressing against herself for a moment before her hand moved up, the tips white. She sighed almost as if she was content and he rolled his eyes, looking back to the ceiling.

“You still want to go to that festival?” he asked, sarcastic and he felt her eyes on him.

“No,” she said softly and she crawled to him, her cheek meeting his shoulder, her body still too warm but he let her. Mostly because he was too tired to shove her off. “My Jarl… I-I want to repay the favor.”

He looked down at her. “Is that so?” he muttered and she nodded.

“Anywhere, my Jarl,” she bit her lip. “I-If you want me to suck you off, I will. Multiple times. Anything to please you.”

He smirked. “You may come to regret that,” he said and she buried herself against him, kissing his exposed skin. He held her to him, his hand moving into her hair to absently play with the strands and she dipped down against his neck, her breath light as her hands moved over his chest.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

He sighed. “I suppose.”

She kissed his neck in response then moved to his jaw, her lips light against his skin making him turn to look at her. She bit her lip and he pulled down her down for a proper kiss, dominating her again and she melted against him, whimpering. He didn’t hear when Nenya came back nor the sounds of Helvard hitting his bed hard from above. He was knocked out, his head full of nothing and beside him his Thane slept, her cheeks glowing and a smile on her lips.

When he woke in the morning she was curled against him and he moved away, tugging on some new light robes as he went to take a piss, the light in the Longhouse making him groan. When he came back Nenya was up, carrying in some bread from the barracks and he looked at her. She looked to him for a second, her lips thin and he had to stop.

“What?” he snapped and she said nothing for a moment.

“The guards could hear you two last night,” she said and he stared at her before he smiled.

“Good,” he said and she scowled at him. “What’s your problem with it?”

“You shouldn’t abuse her feelings like this, Siddgeir,” she lectured and he rolled his eyes. “You know she cares about you more than you deserve.”

“Nenya, go fuck yourself,” he snapped as he moved back to his room, his neutral mood now going sour. “I’m staying in bed today so deal with the smallfolk. And make sure my breakfast is hot and fresh, not the slop you usually feed me," he demanded and she said nothing but her eyes narrowed. "Oh, and one more thing. Make it for two as my Thane is currently still naked and well-fucked in my goddamn bed.”

She continued to say nothing but her disapproval was apparent and he shut the door behind him, running a hand through his hair in irritation as he went back to his bed. He flopped back into it, annoyed and beside him she stirred, moving to seek him out, her head curling against his chest once she did and he sighed.

“Good morning,” she said softly and he looked down at her as she leaned against him. He nudged her awake.

“You wanted to repay the favor?” he asked and she slowly focused on him, her eyes still clouded with sleep. “Well, today you can, Thane. You’re spending the day pleasuring me, understand?”

She turned a deep red, becoming alert and he smirked at her, reaching down to grab her hand to shove it on his cock. She flushed, looking down but after a moment her shoulders slumped in defeat and she looked to him, licking her lips. “Anything special I should do?”

“Yes,” he smirked. “Make sure Nenya and the guards hear you.”

Her ears turned pink but she moved down, pulling his tunic up as her eyes focused on him. “Y-Yes, my Jarl.”


	47. Of Insults and Whores (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just dicking around with them here.

She fled from him, too upset to reply and she moved from the grand hall where the guests all were, slipping down the hallway to go to the stairs only the servants used so she could have her peace, tears in her eyes. No one followed allowing her to slow down and she kept going down despite them leading to nowhere. She didn’t care. She just wanted to be alone.

In the basement of the Blue Palace there were still a few beds and chairs stacked in a corner collecting dust again. It brought back memories of her brief time in Solitude but it wasn’t what she wanted to reflect on. What she wanted was a place to herself so she could cry and this was the only option she had. No one would come down here, at least not anymore and she moved over the cold stones, her voice already starting to crack and she settled on one of the beds.

There was a thin film of dust which rose when she sat but she didn’t try to brush it away. She merely closed her eyes and finally cried, hating that horrible man upstairs. Gods, why did he always single her out?

She wasn’t a whore or stupid. She loved Siddgeir, in truth. And if he only saw her in negatively he could… he could go fuck himself! Fuck him!

She smiled through her tears at her thought, her hands balling into fists as she repeated the line but in the end she was still miserable. She was the one in the basement telling him off while he was upstairs still sucking up to the Queen and the other Jarls.

She remained down there long after her tears had dried, long after she should have gone back up but she didn’t move from her spot preferring to sit in the dark with the dust. She was contemplating laying down on the old bed when footsteps drew her eyes up and she stiffened, listening to if they were coming close.

They sounded on the stones and stopped and she remained perfectly still, her breath held in her throat as she began to be filled with fear that he had come down to mock her more when someone came forward around the corner.

Her fingers gripped the side of the bed hard and she shook a little as the emerald eyes of her Jarl looked to her. He scowled. “There you are, you idiot! What are you doing down here?! I was fucking looking for you!”

She flushed deeply and her eyes drew down, her body struggling as she tried not to become upset. “I’m sorry, m-my Jarl. I-I was getting hot and… and down here…”

He moved towards her making her stiffen and she looked up at him, her heart pounding as he came to stand before her. His fingers grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up and she could feel the metal of his ring, how warm it was against her skin when he narrowed his eyes.

“You’ve been crying.”

She shook. “N…No… I… I’m…”

His nails dug into her chin making her whimper. “You know, I really hate it when you try and fucking lie to me.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not,” he growled and she felt tears welling at the corners of her eyes making him sigh. “So, what now. Why are you crying this time?” She wouldn’t say and he gripped her harder making her wince. “Kjersti. You will answer me.”

He wasn’t drunk, she could tell but he had obviously taken more than one bottle of mead. She contemplated lying, telling him she was sick but when he started to lean over her forcing her back she relented. “E-Erikur!”

He paused and she bit her lip. “What?”

“E-Erikur… spoke to me,” she finally said in a miserable tone and her Jarl let up, though she could see his anger smoldering at the name.

“What did he say to you?”

She merely sniffed and looked at the floor, ashamed. “What he always says.”

“Which is-? What?” he was starting to lose his patience and she fidgeted.

“That… you’re a bastard. I’m a whore,” she said carefully. “And… t-that… you’re using me… and everyone knows it.” Her throat was beginning to get tight again. “A-And if I had a-any sense… I would fuck him. H-He’d pay me better than you.”

She had to stop and bury her face in her hands again, not wanting him to see but she could feel he became tense at her words. She tried to calm herself, she really did, but the more she thought of that slimeball smiling at her, his hand slipping down to touch her waist, his words hurtful as he slid next to her the more she cried.

It was when her Jarl started to speak that she exploded. “H-He grabbed my waist! He kept saying…” she fought with her anger. “He said one night with him and he’d make me… r-respectable!” She looked to her Jarl who was silent but his eyes were dark. “I-I’m a Thane! I-I’m not… I’m not a whore!”

There was silence between them again as she tried to calm down once more though this time was more successful. She was wiping her eyes when he spoke. “Is that all he said?”

She flushed. “He said… You probably couldn’t satisfy me… since you’re a little cock and I need a… proper Nord pounding.”

He said nothing but turned to leave making her stop. “M-My Jarl-! W-Wait! No! Please don’t go to him!” she was up and rushing but he shoved her off.

“Kjersti, shut up and stay down here.”

“B-But he’ll know I told!” she begged, tugging at his arm, tears in her eyes again. “Please, Siddgeir! Please don’t!”

She shoved her off, turning to glare at her. “Did I say I was doing this for you?! Sit the fuck back down here, understand!? That’s a fucking command!”

She began to fidget relentlessly, her emerald party dress being twisted under her hands and he went to the stairs and disappeared. It left her pacing and frantic as she thought about what he said and what she said and she was becoming agitated. Lady Mara, what had she done? She should have just kept quiet and went up earlier than before.

A sudden scream upstairs drew her eyes up and she twisted her dress painfully in her hands but she didn’t go, moving to sit down as her Jarl had commanded. Her leg shook as she began worrying terribly over what was going on when footsteps came from the stairs. He came back down, his right hand’s knuckles red and she rushed to him, trying to fuss but he pushed her back.

“It’s nothing.”

“Siddgeir, y-you shouldn’t-! W-Why!?” she begged and he gave her a look.

“You’re asking me for a reason on why I punched that prick? Whose side are you on!?”

She flushed. “May… May I see your hand… Please?”

He scowled but relented and she took it into hers, rubbing where he had obviously struck the bastard. She bit her lip, studying each knuckle individually before she spoke. “Who... screamed?”

She saw him smirk. “Elisif.”

“Y-You’re… not in trouble… a-are you?”

He looked to her. “No,” he said raising his brow making her sigh. “I wouldn’t care if I was either. Fucking prick deserved it.” She smiled a little. “No one bloody well tells my property what to do or insults me.”

She kissed his hand making him stare at her and she rubbed it again, not meeting his eyes but her cheeks were turning red. “Siddgeir…”

“What?”

“T-Thank you.”

He sighed and pulled his hand away, gripping the side before he glanced at her and snapped his fingers making her look up. “Come here.”

She did as he asked and he grabbed her neck making her whimper, his grip tight but he moved to rubbing her cheek as if to soothe her. She closed her eyes and let him, reaching up to touch his wrist and he ran his thumb under her eye.

“Next time he fucking talks to you, tell him to go fuck himself.”

She bit her lip and nodded but he wasn’t satisfied. “Kjersti, I mean it. Don’t you let that prick ever talk to you without me being around.”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

“Hey,” he snapped and she opened her eyes, looking to him quietly ad he stared at her. He leaned in, his breath hitting her making her bite her lip but his hands moved down, nudging her to open her mouth. “That’s an order. He doesn’t know shit and you shouldn’t let him think that he does.”

She swallowed the small lump in her throat. “Siddgeir…”

“What?”

She moved in, kissing him first. It was quick and to the point making him purse his lips. “I won’t.”

“Good girl,” he muttered and he kissed her back rougher than she had. He held her steady as he dominated her, the taste of mead going to her head and when one of his hands moved down to force her closer she threw her arms around his neck, pressing eagerly against him. She didn’t want anyone but him ever touching her again and as they got sloppier, his need to dominate her making him a bit more desperate she relented to him feeling her heart quicken.

He cupped her ass and she moved to kissing his exposed neck, his flesh salty and his throat humming as he purred when footsteps made her stop. She pulled back as a woman came down, her steps light but her heels clacking and her Jarl turned to see who it was as his Thane wiped the back of her mouth in embarrassment.

“Bryling,” he said. “Something you want?”

The Thane of Solitude gave him a wry smile. “Elisif wants to see you.”

He snorted. “Erikur deserved it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did,” she said. “But Elisif needs to remind you it’s inappropriate. This is her court, not yours.”

He scoffed. “Her Thane was harassing mine.”

She looked past him at Kjersti who was flushing and avoiding her look, her fingers twisting in her hands and Bryling sighed. “Not my call. Come on, Siddgeir.”

He snorted but started to leave making his own Thane fidget. “M-My Jarl? S-Should I come?”

He looked back at her. “No… stay here. I’ll come get you later,” he said before he left and she was once again alone in the basement with the dusty chairs and bed with her imprint on it. Somehow every time she attended one of these parties, someone ended up on the floor and her on a bed.

 

\-------


	48. Milkweed, Valerian Root, and Honey (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never released this outside of my own locked livejournal but... it's one of my better fics. Sad as that is.

He wanted to ride out early, before the sun rose and she nearly wept at his request but complied, leaving her manor before Rayya woke, her body exhausted and her eyes weary. Her horse didn’t even seem to want to go, snorting at her when she unhooked the lead from the ragged rusted nail and she sighed.

“I know,” she muttered, feeling the beast’s pain. “I know, but we must.” She swore to do his commands and that was what she had to do no matter her thoughts.

It took her a little under an hour to reach the town, the place as dead as its graveyard and the night guard even giving her a look but she merely smiled at them and continued, riding to the Longhouse and dismounting to enter silently while her horse stood outside. She found him in his room, his leather gauntlets being pulled tight over his forearms, his robes dark green and brown making him look regal despite the clash and he barely looked to her. “What took you?”

She sighed and bowed to him. “S-Sorry, my Jarl.”

“Get over here,” he snapped as he held up his arm and she went to his side, tightening the straps so the gauntlets lay firm and snug on him. He gave her a look making her flush and he grabbed his cloak, unhooking the clasp made of emerald and gold before he threw it at her. She caught it, struggling to find the clasp and he turned so she could put it on him, the deep green seeming to look almost black next to his robes.

She set it on his shoulders, smoothing it down before she moved to his front to snap the hooks together, looking up at him for a brief moment and flushing when he looked down at her. He touched the chain, pursing his lips as if he was dissatisfied but he didn’t say anything and turned to leave, snapping his fingers for her to follow.

She rushed after him, her own shoulders bare and he turned on her when they were at the end of the hearth. “Go fetch my horse and bow.”

“Yes, my Jarl.”

“Then get back here and change,” he demanded making her flush.

“W-Why?”

“You’re fucking wearing purple out on a hunt?” he spat and she bit her lip. “There’s a more suitable dress in Nenya’s room. Go get it after and put it on.”

She hesitated. “B-But, Nenya’s bigger than me…”

He glared at her and she had to silence herself, bowing to him before she rushed out and ran to the barracks. No guard stirred when she entered as it was too early for their shift change but she didn’t really mind. They always gave her such queer looks when she entered as if she shouldn’t be there and she never felt as if she should.

It was a simple task of unlocking the chest in the coffers, the thing filled with various weapons she had fetched for her Jarl that he liked. A sword that had a soul trap spell on it, an axe that burned with fire, arrows made of brittle iron that were good for practice up to ebony arrows that seemed to even shine on a moonless night.

She took his glass bow, the intricate details on the nook fading a little from use and fetched a quiver filled with dwarven and glass arrows. His supply was low again and she made a mental note before she fetched a glass dagger at the very bottom in case he wanted it and left, locking the chest as she did. His horse was behind the barracks, the black stallion a beast even in the darkness and she approached it with one hand up to show she meant it no harm.

Its ears went back but it did not rear or thrash at her like it usually did. Its temper sometimes mirrored her Jarls so she could never be sure but for the moment, it complied which made her sigh in relief. At least one thing was going well. She took its heavy lead, forcing it to move from its backyard of lush green grass and wildflowers and she brought it to where her docile mare stood.

The stallion snorted and moved towards her darling horse, nipping at it making hers back up, ears going flat and she struggled to pull it away. “Please, don’t start trouble now!” she begged and the stallion stamped, pawing at the stones making her wary. She looked to the door of the Longhouse, pleading silently for her Jarl to come out as her hands were full and he finally emerged when his stallion let out a loud whinny, its mood turning as it was beginning to get impatient.

He stared at her and she gave him a begging look, holding his stallion’s bridle, her arms clasped around his bow and he sighed. “Idiot.”

“P-Please help.”

He came down and took the lead, snapping it hard making his stallion lower its head, its dark brown eyes looking at him almost respectfully before he took his quiver from her hands. He strapped it to his back, snapping his bow from her as well and she stood awkwardly, watching him as the sky began to lighten slightly.

He stared at the dagger in her hand. “What’s that?”

She frowned. “I-In case you wanted it.”

“I don’t want that,” he said, brushing past her as he put a foot in the stirrup and he easily hauled himself up. “Go fucking get dressed.”

She flushed and rushed back into the Longhouse, slowly when she hit the stairs as she didn’t want to wake the steward but when she made it to the top, the door opened and she sighed as the Altmer looked at her, her hair still messy and her nightwear touching her feet.

“Kjersti?”

She flushed. “N-Nenya, d-do you have a green dress I could borrow?”

She gave her a look. “A dress? Kjersti, you’re a bit short-”

“I-I know,” she said with nearly clenched teeth. “Siddgeir’s insisting.”

Nenya merely sighed and rolled her eyes. “Of course he is.” She disappeared back into her room and came out with a deep pine-coloured dress that had a leather corset on top. “This is all I have.”

She sighed and took it. She didn’t really have a choice. She began to strip, not really caring as Nenya had seen her naked before and she struggled to put on the long dress, the steward coming out to help and lace up the front but it was still too big. The front sagged as it was supposed to be worn by someone with a chest and it hung down past her feet. Only the sleeves fit and they were designed to stop in the middle of the forearms making her sigh.

She couldn’t be picky. It would have to do and she bowed to the steward who collected her mage robes. “Thank you, Nenya. I promise I’ll try not to wreck it.”

She sighed. “Tell Siddgeir if he wants you dressed to his liking he can buy you some clothes. You can’t fit mine.”

She flushed and nodded before hiking up the hem and rushing down the wooden ladder, ignoring the sound of Skulnar stirring as she went back out into the early dawn light. Her Jarl looked to her when she came out, his eyebrow rising and she bit her lip awkwardly but went to her horse, struggling to mount as the dress made it difficult and he came to her side.

He grabbed her by the back of the dress making her yelp and he hauled her up, not caring when some seams popped in the back.

So much for her promise not to wreck it.

“Come on,” he said, almost annoyed. “The herd is probably on the move now since you’re so slow.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he sighed and he turned his wild stallion, its head shaking for a moment in defiance but it did as he commanded. “Let’s go. We’re going west.”

She nodded and turned her mare, pressing its side gently while he kicked his stallion hard. The beast reared a bit, slamming its hooves down before it took off making her grit her teeth as she had to follow. She stood in the saddle, following behind him as they rushed past the night guards and the gate and soon the faint lights that helped her see in the town were gone and she had to adjust to the dawn darkness, her Jarl in such dark clothes on a black stallion not making it any easier.

He moved off the road breaking through the thicket onto a trail and she had to follow, branches hitting her as they moved. It was an old deer path, one used long ago and she flinched every time her arms and sides were scratched by the pines, leaves sticking to her mare and herself. He continued to ride, pulling out towards a small clearing and only then did he stop, turning his horse to stare at her.

She came up beside him, shaking a bit and he sighed. “Can’t you keep up?”

“I-I’m sorry,” she immediately said making him scowl. “M-My Jarl, where are we going?”

He pursed his lips making her flush but he didn’t insult her which surprised her a little. “I told you, West,” he pointed and she frowned. “The herd is moving towards the mountains again and the bulls are following. And I intend to take the largest.”

She wished he took the dagger in case he did. His old iron one was terrible at cutting through tough hides. “H-How much further?”

He glared at her. “What are you, a child? We’ll get there when we get there and you better damn well keep up.”

She sighed but nodded, not in the mood to provoke him further and he turned his stallion, kicking the beast again to make it run and she followed behind as close as she could. They crossed over another clearing where she once killed a pack of wolves and then near the place where a necromancer had once lunged for her, its dead thrall following and voice grateful when she killed it.

The pine forest was thick with the smells of the morning, of dew from the fog rolling through the trees and fragrant spruce from the clusters which tried to grow next to tall lodge poles and poplars. She inhaled, relaxing a bit and she followed her Jarl obediently as the sky began to lighten, though it was overcast. They headed off down another trail, the hard ground giving way to moss and tangled roots and he finally slowed, pulling his stallion’s lead as the beast struggled over the uneven ground.

Her mare tread carefully, head down and ears forward and she took in their surroundings, the shadows of the forest frightening her a bit. A large spruce hen took flight near her making her yelp and her Jarl turned back on her, wary until he realized what it was. He snorted. “It’s a bird, you twit.”

Her heart still pounded. “S-Sorry.”

“Come on,” he said, turning back as his horse stepped on hard ground and they rode through a few more clearings, through fallen stones from some forgotten ancient ruin and they were back into the thicket only her Jarl slowed right to a crawl. His horse would take a step and he’d stop it, his eyes scanning the surroundings and she held back watching him.

Despite the amount of complaints she heard about him mixed with her own doubt when he was on the throne ignoring his duties, when he hunted he changed. His eyes were intense as they stared through the thicket searching for signs, his body as still as one of the ancient trees around them, chest barely moving as he took in slight controlled breaths. She found herself intimidated by him, at his concentration and presence. It was rare she felt that way around anyone, even the other Jarls but when hers wanted to, he could act like a leader.

He moved then stopped, eyes set north into the tangle of living and dead trees and finally his hand raised. She tried to go to him quietly but her mare was not trained in such a way making him give her an angry look that caused her to flinch and flush in embarrassment. He finally turned, his stallion backing up, snorting but he placed a hand on its neck to quiet it until he was beside her.

He merely pointed and she followed his gaze. She didn’t see anything at first except branches and tangles of spruce and brush. She leaned, trying to see and she could feel his irritation as she did until he ran out of patience and he grabbed her, squeezing her arm making her wince before he leaned, still pointing.

“There,” he whispered making her skin prickle. “You can see its breath.”

She still couldn’t see where it was, desperately searching, until the animal actually moved. Then she caught sight of it, nearly gasping as she did. It was a large bull elk, its antlers looking as if they were dripping with blood but she realized it was velvet. Shreds of it were hanging onto the bone, its breath thick in the air as it took a few steps, coat a tawny brown until its legs where it turned black. The beast looked towards them, ears up, eyes alert and she froze, not daring to breathe.

She felt her Jarl stir from next to her, letting go of her arm and he stared at the beast quietly, both judging each other through the trees. It snorted, its neck stretching as it let out a low, deep bugle and her Jarl straightened, slowly pulling his bow off his back. He took a glass arrow as he did, quietly arming himself and she bit her lip as she tried to remain still.

He aimed and the elk looked back, ears twitching. He took in a slow breath, his arms flexing and his eyes hard in concentration as he pulled back the string but he didn’t release. He continued to stare at the animal, both not daring to move and she felt herself tense.

Finally he released and the arrow shot through the air, slamming into the side of the elk making it kick, howling in pain. He grabbed another arrow, not bothering to pull back as far and he shot but the beast moved. His arrow sailed into the forest making him curse and he grabbed the reins of his stallion, ready to move when the elk crashed through the trees, not fleeing but going towards them.

She couldn’t help but shout, kicking her mare so they could dodge out of the animal’s way as it swung its head, aiming to hit them. Siddgeir shot a dwarven arrow at its rump, hitting the flank making it kick and it crashed against the brush, turning on him, head lowering. He grabbed another arrow and she finally had to speak.

“M-My Jarl!” she cried, worried as the one ton beast stared him down, his stallion thrashing its head in defiance as if challenging it back. He shot again, but his aim was off and it grazed its shoulder making it react, charging.

She shot an ice shard at it, her magic hitting the elk’s side and exploding making it cry in pain and she found herself hesitating. She hurt it. She knew she was going to but it didn’t make her feel any less guilty.

Her Jarl shot another arrow, stabbing the beast in the neck but it continued to rage, only this time it turned on her. It charged and she shouted, pulling at her mare’s reins which caused her poor horse to rear. She then made the mistake of letting go of the lead.

“Cotton!” she cried as he horse threw itself to the side, moving away from the rampaging elk but into the trees in response and she was slammed against one, her leg caught between it and her horse making her scream.

Her mare reared in terror at the sound and she tried to hold on but her grip slipped and she went down. Her head slammed against the ground and she felt the worst pain she had ever experienced flood her, darkness filling her body and soul and her mare came back down, letting out a whinny before it moved. For a moment, she swore she was standing over herself, staring down as the elk charged at her, blood dripping from its wounds.

She went limp.

 

 

Milkweed. She remembered her mother and her used to collect it to stuff under the pelts of their bed as it would keep them warm during the winter. It had a nice fragrance and sometimes her mother would make tea with it but she never liked it. She thought it was best used under her pillow so when the winds would come down from the North she wouldn’t feel as cold under the thin blankets and old pelts.

She didn’t know why she was thinking about it. The more she thought, the more something tugged at her and she felt pain shoot through her making her try to withdraw back to her memory of being under the blankets. The pain, however, won over. She couldn’t go back and everything began to hurt making her cry out, twisting though her limbs felt useless. Something grabbed her, cradling her as if she was a babe in her mother’s arms and she sobbed at the feeling.

“N-No!” she whimpered. “I-It hurts!”

There was no reply but she was held tighter and she felt a slight warmth around her arms as she was starting to come back. She opened her eyes but was blinded by light and she squirmed, her head throbbing so much she was sure it was split in two. Her fingernails hurt, her leg, her chest, her soul. She heard a sound like someone shushing her and she sobbed, the cradling turning to rocking which made her sick. “N-No…”

“Stop moving,” a voice growled and she moved more, struggling with whoever had her, her mind wanting to go back to milkweed and darkness.

“It hurts-!” she wailed in a voice that wasn’t her own and she was forced against something, fingers digging into her shoulder. She smelled something familiar. Pine and honey.

Her Jarl.

She forced her eyes to open, tears streaking down them and she was disorientated, her senses coming back and she could smell blood and the forest and a horse. She cried out, trying to move but she realized he was holding her tight to him. She was on his stallion; he was carrying her.

“Stop moving!” he snapped and she looked to him, tears still blinding her vision. He was pale. “You… You fucking idiot!”

She tried to say his name but a sob came out instead and she realized she was wrapped in his cloak. She wanted to get it off, put it back on him where it belonged when her head throbbed worse than a thousand storms and she shut her eyes, the pain near unbearable.

“It hurts!” she sobbed harder as if he could do something and he dug his nails into her, tensing as he kicked his horse harder and she bounced against him, the pain intensifying.

Finally they passed under something she recognized; the gate of Falkreath. Her Jarl was shouting even before she saw it. “Get that fucking priest!”

There were sounds of confusion and he rode into the town, looking around. “Where is he!? Get that fucking priest out here, now!”

“Siddgeir, what’s happened?” an old voice asked and she knew it. Thadgeir. His horse turned and she clenched her eyes shut as pain filled her again making her cry.

“She fell.” His voice was frantic and she thrashed when someone touched her. “Father, she fell off her horse.”

She clung to her Jarl, her body feeling as if it were going to split apart and she was taken from him, held in strong cold arms. She didn’t open her eyes, she no longer could. She could only sob and wail when someone came and cupped her head and scream when her leg was touched. It didn’t last long and soon she was in darkness again though no thoughts of Milkweed followed.

She instead thought for a brief moment of pine and honey. She wanted her Jarl.

 

The first thing she smelled was a fire. It wasn’t overpowering, more subtle like the ones made in a fireplace and she winced a bit, her mouth dry and tasting of valerian root. She knew it well as her mother always made tea with it to try and help with her rockjoint and she knew she had finally come back to reality.

She didn’t know how long she was lost inside herself. Once she thought she was awake but when her mother came to her with white antlers sticking out from her hair and her Jarl on her arm, she knew she was dreaming. Something disturbing too. But the taste of valerian root which her mother usually refused to give her was in her mouth and she knew she was alive.

Her head throbbed slightly but it no longer felt as terrible as it did. Her eyes opened, weary and dry and she looked up at a wooden ceiling that was too close to her to be from the Longhouse. Her head moved slightly and she found herself looking at her Jarl, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed making her frown.

She tried to reach for him but her body wasn’t listening and she could only make feeble sounds. Footsteps on the floor made her stop and her eyes were met with Runil’s. She flushed a bit. “Ru…nil.”

“Hello, my dear,” he said softly and he went to her side, checking her head which made her murmur. He turned her a bit to see the back of her skull and her eyes went to stare at her Jarl. She tried again to reach for him but her fingers merely twitched but didn’t go to him. She whimpered and tried again but she was pushed back by the priest.

“Well, the wound is closing.”

“Sidd…” she said, not caring about her condition. “Sidd… geir…”

He looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “The Jarl? Ah, he’s finally fallen asleep.” She watched as he left her side and went to his, pulling a thin woven blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed she was lying in to drape over his shoulders. He didn’t stir. “He’s been watching you for days.”

She flushed. “W-Watching?” she licked her dry lips, suddenly feeling hot. “W-Why?”

Runil gave her an odd look which made her flush a bit. “My dear, you were thrown off a horse in front of him and nearly trampled by a one and a half ton elk. He brought you back here, threatened me to fix you. He wouldn’t leave your side.”

It didn’t answer her question but she felt her cheeks flush as if she knew what he was implying. No, she was her Jarl’s Thane, nothing more. She sank back down, wincing as her head pulsed and Runil came back to her. He applied a salve to her temples, giving her valerian root tea to drink which she gagged on before he said a prayer to Arkay.

She leaned back down against the straw pillow, exhausted from the small actions but her eyes kept going to her Jarl. She didn’t understand why he stayed and Runil placed a cloth on her head making her frown. “You’re a bit hot, my dear.”

She bit her lip but didn’t say why. She laid back, closing her eyes and when he left to go fetch some water she opened them again and looked at her Jarl.

She tried once more to touch him and her hand finally obeyed, her fingertips touching his knee. He didn’t stir, his body slack in his chair and she pursed her lips, drawing back. “I’m… sorry,” she said to him. “For… for falling.”

He said nothing and she closed her eyes, going back to sleep.

 

 

She woke again to the sound of talking. “I really don’t give a shit what she says.”

“My Jarl, please. It’s still going to be a few days before she can move.”

“So?” his irritated voice came and she pursed her lips and tried to open her eyes, the wooden ceiling coming into view. “Look, old man, you may be fine leaving the wounded but I’m not.”

She heard Runil let out a weary sigh. “My Jarl, you know that’s-”

“Whatever,” he cut in and she heard heavy boots on the floorboards making her wince and close her eyes, collecting herself. The sounds of a chair scraping across the floor came and she heard someone slump down, the bed she was in shaking a bit. “I’m done talking and if you knew your place you would shut up as well.”

She groaned and her bed shook. Frantic footsteps sounded and she felt a hand come and rest over her forehead, the touch cool making her shiver and she opened her eyes. Runil was above her and her Jarl was leaning over the bed, his emerald eyes frantic but when she blinked they were normal. Did she dream that?

“My dear,” Runil cooed and her eyes moved back to him. “How are you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Siddgeir said and the priest pursed his lips but didn’t reply. “She fell off a fucking horse, how do you think she is?”

She turned to her Jarl, her hand reaching for him and he flinched at her touch, staring down at her before glaring. She frowned. “Sidd…geir.”

He relaxed a bit but didn’t take her hand and Runil placed a cloth on her head making her wince. The throbbing was coming back and she whimpered but it didn’t last for long as she was made to drink more valerian root tea. She coughed, trying to refuse it but he made her drink it all and slowly her senses were dulled again and she was weak against the pillow. Her Jarl sighed.

“You fucking idiot.”

She flushed. “I-I’m… sorry.”

“My Jarl,” Runil said. “She should rest.”

He glared at him. “Really? What tipped you off?”

She could see the priest was getting agitated with him and she tried to get up to settle it but her body refused and she collapsed against the pillow making both move. Her Jarl slapped her shoulder. “What are you doing? Don’t try to fucking get up!”

She groaned. “But…”

“Kjersti, he’s right. You’re still injured. Your wounds need time to heal and shouldn’t be trying to get up so soon,” the old priest said and she looked to him. She only wanted to get up to try and stop them but her voice was too weak to say. She moved, her fingers which were strangely pale touched the priest’s arm and she licked her lips.

“Don’t… fight,” she begged and he stared at her. Her Jarl sighed and moved back to sit in his chair and she looked to him as well. “P…Please.”

Runil smoothed back her hair and she whimpered, feeling exhausted again. “My dear… Please rest.”

“Runil,” Siddgeir said, his voice low making both look to him. “Leave.” He stared at him and her Jarl sneered. “I need to speak to her alone.”

“Sidd..geir…” she said but he shot her a look.

“Shut up,” he commanded and she did while he looked back at the priest. “Now.”

The old Altmer sighed but let go of her, picking up a carved wooden basin as he moved from her side. He took a moment to collect some things but eventually he left, leaving her alone with him, her cheeks flushing as she watched him glare at the wall before he stood. His eyes were dark, scaring her, and she bit her lip. 

“I-I’m… sorry. S-Sorry I… I fell… And the elk…” she tried as he came to her side, shoving her over so he could sit making her wince. She tried to hold his hands but he slapped them away. “F-Forgive… forgive… me!”

He slapped her upside the head hard making her cry out, pain coursing through her mind but she couldn’t dwell long as he grabbed her and angled her head, kissing her roughly. It made her stop, tears forming in the corners of her eyes but he didn’t relent.

He pulled back to catch a breath before he kissed her again, desperate. He did it again and again making her breathless and dizzy, tears falling from her eyes and he refused to let her go.

“You fucking idiot,” he hissed making her whimper. “You fucking idiot!”

She opened her mouth to say something but he kissed her harder making her breathless. “You fucking idiot!”

“M… My…”

He pulled her up, holding her body to his as he dominated her mouth again, her head burning and her eyes becoming unfocused as he withdrew. “You are not allowed to leave me!”

She flushed and tried focusing on him, her eyes weary. “Siddge… ir…”

He kissed her again, his teeth scraping over her bottom lip and she shook as she tried to grip him, her mind swimming. “Fucking idiot. You fucking… stupid elf.”

She gripped him as she had when he carried her, her throat beginning to tighten as she looked at his eyes, how upset he looked behind them. Her voice cracked. “Don’t… Don’t leave me… either.”

He glared at her, the corner of his lip rising a bit to show his teeth and he was on her, forcing her against the bed, dominating her as if he meant to steal her breath away. She lay below him letting him do as he wanted, her head light and toes curling. He pulled back for a second, only to shove up the light grey wool tunic she wore in place of her other clothes and he pulled her until she was flush with his body, his lips on her neck and hands gripping hers.

She was injured still, her leg throbbing and head aching but him against her made her feel better, his desperation and desire to not let her go making her heart pound. His fingers moved down her body making her whimper and twist as he touched her.

He bit at her neck, his hips moving to grind against her and his tongue hot against her skin when she gripped at his arm. “S-Siddgeir…” she whined and he pulled up, his eyes looking down at her which made her flush. She reached up, touching his neck, wanting him and he leaned down to kiss her making her moan.

He pushed her head back and she yelped against him, the throbbing flooding her for a moment and he paused before trying to be gentle. She found herself not wanting that, his sweetness nice but it wasn’t him. She moved his hand down, trying to get him to focus somewhere else instead and he took the hint. The underwear that she had on that weren’t hers was pulled off and he pushed his robes up, moving so she felt him touch her and she shook, falling back, her head dizzy again.

“S-Siddgeir…” she panted and he reached between them stroking her quickly making her whine and she closed her eyes, panting on the bed for him. He kept bringing his fingers up, licking them to add moisture and she responded, her legs spreading despite the dull ache in her right and her hands gripping the sheets below.

It occurred to her it was strange that she wanted him like this when she was injured. Maybe this was a mistake and they should stop but he seemed to have read her mind and his mouth was against hers reminding her why she was spread for him. He needed her. She flushed, her hand touching his neck and she tried to kiss him back with equal desperation but she was getting exhausted.

“Just lie down,” he instructed and she obeyed, closing her eyes as she dropped against the bed. His fingers moved inside her, stroking her as his thumb worked her clit and she began to moan, wanting him. He didn’t go fast in case she responded negatively but she tried to make him hear he could. Her hand moved down to touch his to encourage him and she was rewarded for her effort, though he growled at her.

“You tell me if it hurts, got it, you idiot?”

She whimpered and nodded but he wasn’t satisfied with it. “Kjersti!”

“Y-Yes,” she said.

He seemed satisfied and continued, shifting on the bed to add his tongue making her cry out and he lapped at her body, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm making her twist on the bed, stopping only when her leg throbbed. She gripped his head instead, whimpering as he practically bathed her, her thighs shaking and stomach tight and he was soon back up, stroking himself while he got her off.

She let out a pant, her eyes focusing on him as her fingers moved to tugging on the sheets below and he let out a sigh, his fingers pulling out to rub her clit directly making her tense. She dug her heels into the bed, her cheeks burning as her desire heightened and when she was about to release he pulled back. “N-No!”

He raised a brow. “What?”

She flushed and moved her hips, begging him. “P-Please, please g-go back.”

He smirked and pulled away completely making her whine. “You’re not in a position to make demands, girl.”

She nearly thrashed in frustration, her throat tight and her legs clenching together. Gods, she needed him, to rub or do something and she finally reached between herself, trying to get off with her own fingers but it made her become even more desperate much to his amusement.

She was starting to feel light headed and she fell back, whimpering when he spread her legs and sank his tongue into her making her toes curl and her back arch. He didn’t relent, his tongue flicking against her clit until she was shouting before he went back down and made her feel like she was going to come. She was getting tired despite her lust and when she was sure she was going to finally release he pulled back making her cry.

His tongue was replaced with his cock, saliva being spit in his hand as he coated himself once more and he grabbed her slim hips, lining himself up. She panted and twisted her fingers on her chest, aching for him. “S-Siddgeir… S-Siddgeir, please. Please…”

He didn’t mock her or make her beg or do what he usually did. Instead he leaned over, gripping her neck and he kissed her making her melt. “Kjersti,” he growled and she flushed, looking at him. “Don’t you ever worry me again.”

Her heart pounded and she whimpered. “Siddgeir,” she said his name softly, her ears burning. “I won’t…”

He pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue roughly meeting hers and she tensed as he started pushing in, his hands holding her steady but she still shook. It wasn’t the first time she had ever taken him but she suddenly felt weary and tired, her head light as he stole her breath away and by the time he was fully in she was gasping for air.

He kissed her again, his tongue rolling over her lips and she fell down against her pillow panting for him. “M-My Jarl-!”

He nipped at the side of her mouth, pulling out to thrust into her making her twist, her legs spreading. “My name, Kjersti. Say my damn name,” he growled and she panted.

“S-Siddgeir-!”

She fell back on the bed and cried out when he thrust in deep making her toes curl and her back arch and her body meet his. He reached down and held her to him, careful with her head as he did and she panted hard as he thrust into her more, his desperation coming out. He didn’t stop, his teeth gritting and head bowing and she closed her eyes as she felt him around her. Gods. No, Lady Mara was who she had to thank. She couldn’t bear it if she never felt him in her again and by her grace she was there under him and she panted hard as he fucked her into her straw.

She knew he wanted to give it to her harder but she was already reaching her limit as her body moved and she whined, gripping at his shoulders, shaking slightly.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged and he sucked on her neck, his fingers digging into her more. She tugged at him, squirming the more he fucked her, her head getting light again and her leg aching but she didn’t care. But it was if he sensed something wrong and leaned up making her whine. She tried to kiss him but he wouldn’t allow it and his thrusting soon stopped making her beg. “N-No, please… please…”

He stared down at her, his cheeks flushed a bit and his eyes dark. “Is this hurting you?”

She shook her head and tugged at him again. “No… please… please, more!”

He grabbed her jaw, holding her steady as he studied her and she panted, clenching around him which made him hiss and grit his teeth. “Kjersti… What did I say? If this is hurting you…”

“You’re not,” she begged, dizzy and craving him. “Siddgeir… please. I need you. I-I don’t want you to… to stop.”

He didn’t move and she whined, gripping him tighter and she tried to lean up but her head felt too heavy and she fell back, whimpering. He started to pull out but she grabbed for him, her legs trying to close making him glare at her and she pleaded. “Please, Siddgeir. Don’t. I-I’m fine, I am. P-Please. Please, don’t go. D-Don’t… Don’t leave.”

He growled, his eyes angry and his shoulders tense and she wanted to lean up and kiss him and plead but she ached and all she could do was hold tight onto where she had grabbed his robes, trying to pull him back. He finally moved, shoving her down, his forehead touching hers and she whimpered, grabbing at his neck.

“I’m not leaving,” he muttered and she pulled herself up, her mouth meeting his. This time she was acting desperate and uncontrollable for him, her head still light making it hard for her to attack him but he made it easy by shoving her back down again and letting her pull him to her body. He started thrusting again making her shake, her toes curling and her cheeks flushing and she held on to him, ignoring the pounding in her head.

He gripped her again and pulled her flush to himself, his hips rolling making her rock on the bed and she started to pant again, burying her face in the crook of his neck and she inhaled his scent. It was no longer pine and honey but of someone who did stay awake for days watching her. The smell of someone who had worried over her, watched over her and maybe even tended her when she cried out in pain and it made her shake with desire.

She clung to him harder trying to thrust up with him though she was sloppy and weak in comparison. He reached down and grabbed her left thigh, gripping it with a strong hand which made her buck, her lips trying to find any inch of skin he had exposed and he let out a groan which fuelled her further.

Finally she started to build towards an orgasm, her pain melting away as she focused on it and she made more noise the closer she got, her arms moving to hug him to her body as she rode him. He buried himself in her hair, his breath against her ear and she whimpered the closer she got. “S-Siddgeir!” she groaned his name, loving how safe he made her feel as he moved her under him more as if he was protecting her and he let out a small pant. “S-Siddgeir, I-I-! I n-need… I-I’m going-!”

He thrust down faster, his pace soon become more than she could match and she clung to his body, whining as she rode his cock. He rolled his hips, thrusting down fast before he would do so taking her off guard and his tongue against her ear made her shout. It felt as if there was a rock in her stomach, her organs twisting into knots and when she finally got over the edge she cried out, biting his neck. 

It felt so damn good especially after all she had been through and she gripped him tight, clenching around his cock as she came, her entire body shaking from the feeling which flooded her mind and body, blocking out the pain. He fucked her until she went limp, her head pounding from both the wound and her exhaustion and she couldn’t help but fall slack against him as he pulled out.

He shook slightly his hands struggling to find a grip and he ended up grabbing her hips, angling her so he could briefly use her body. She let him, panting as she felt his bucks, her eyes closed and her leg starting to pain before he stopped and dug his nails into her sides. He dragged them down, letting out a hiss and she moaned in response as she felt him pull out again, thick liquid spilling from her body after coating her thighs.

She fell against the bed, spent and he let go of her, struggling not to lie down. Their breathing filled the room save for the sounds of the fire crackling behind them and she flinched when he touched her neck. Her weary eyes opened to look up into his and she gratefully kissed him back when he leaned down. He held her still for a moment, feeling her pulse before he let out a sigh.

“Don’t you ever fucking get hurt again, you hear? Don’t you ever fucking make me go through this again,” he muttered and she stared at him, taken aback before she had to smile, giggling a bit which made him scowl.

“I-I promise…”

He kissed her again, his tongue moving into her mouth and she sighed below him, trying to meet his back but her weariness was taking over. He dominated her until she was gasping for air before he sat up and pulled her tunic down, grabbing a thick bear pelt to drop over her before he adjusted himself. He ran a hand through his hair, briefly touching the bridge of his nose before he stood up and she frowned at him. “I’ll be back later. Don’t you fucking try and get up, you hear?”

She flushed. “Y-Yes… my Jarl.”

“Good,” he muttered before he left, the door shutting quietly behind him leaving her alone in her sickbed with her head swimming and her body hot. She fell asleep after, the strain getting to her and she dreamt for a moment of her Jarl on top of her more, muttering words of love into her ear until she was screaming his name.

 

 

She woke to a slight throbbing in her body, her head aching and her leg sore but she didn’t get up as instructed. She instead looked around, pulling her arms out from underneath the pelt and she heard someone stir. She caught a glimpse of Kust moving and she frowned before Runil came to her side. She sighed, grateful, and he touched her forehead.

“Still a bit hot.”

She flushed. “…A…Ah, that. Um,” she didn’t even know where to begin as embarrassment flooded her but he didn’t put a cloth over her head. Instead he gave her some more valerian root tea which she gagged at before checking the back of her head.

She found herself flushing at the silence between them, the room suddenly seeming awkward when he pulled back, redressing the wound. “Well, seems your head is still intact. He didn’t go too hard on you.”

She snapped her head up, staring at him as her mouth fell open and she was about to deny it when he sighed and pulled the pelts away, checking her leg. “Come now, Kjersti. I’m old, not dumb.”

She turned a bright red. “R-Runil… p-please don’t tell anyone.”

He gave her a look. “Why would I?”

He had a point but she was still embarrassed and she sunk back down, pulling the bear pelt up a bit to hide herself. He chuckled at her action making her ears burn and he went to fetch some more salve, applying it to where her leg was sore and then on her head. He checked her pulse before patting her on the head as if she was a child.

“Get some rest, my dear. I’ve been instructed to have you able to move in at least three days. Whether or not I will is left to be seen but our Jarl insists.”

“W-Why?” she asked and he shrugged.

“Who knows? You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

He turned to leave but she stopped him, still flushing from before but she had to say something. “R-Runil? Thank you. For tending to me.”

He cocked his head a bit before taking her hand and patting it. “Rest, my dear.”

She did as he said.

 

 

When she could finally leave the Hall of the Dead, her ears burning when she realized she had taken Kust’s bed for more than a week, she was greeted with the sight of the steward holding the lead to her mare. She nearly fell trying to scramble to her. 

“C-Cotton!” she cried, her arms becoming thrown around her mare’s neck and the horse snorted, leaning down a bit to sniff her.

Her Jarl looked less than amused. “That horse should be turned to meat for my hounds,” he said making her flush. “Useless bitch it is.”

“N-No, my Jarl-!” she begged and Nenya sighed, getting between them.

“It’s not your horse, Siddgeir. Now come on, she needs to be taken back up to the manor,” she turned to look at her and she gripped her mare’s neck possessively. “Kjersti, Rayya has been given the recipe and ingredients for some teas and salves in case you start hurting again. She also can bandage your head again if you need it.”

She flushed. “T-Thank you.”

Nenya gave her a small smile and held out her lead. “Rest well. You’re officially not to come back to court for a month-”

“I didn’t fucking authorize that!” he Jarl cut in but Nenya ignored him.

“-So spend your time recovering. Skulnar has gotten some men to do patrols while you are off.”

She hesitated but took her lead looking to her then to her Jarl who looked less than amused. “N-Nenya? Y-Your dress…”

She waved it off. “That doesn’t matter, don’t even think of it. What matters is that you are alright.” She flushed at her words and she turned back to look at the Jarl who furrowed his brows at her. “Don’t try and kill anything while you take her back.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” he snapped, shoving past her making her glare at him and he looked her once over making her flush and hold the lead tight. “Come on, you idiot. I hope you’re happy you get a month to rest instead of doing your job.”

She bit her lip. “I-I’m sorry. I-I could… I could come down-”

“Siddgeir! Don’t be an ass!” Nenya snapped making him turn on her. “She needs to rest! This is your fault!”

“Mine?!” he spat, moving to face her, his body tense and she had to interject this time, pulling him away from her in what seemed to be a conversation the two had discussed before.

“M-My Jarl! P-Please!”

He turned on her making her whimper and move back but his anger seemed to subside with her and he merely took to giving Nenya a look and mouthing an insult before he left to go fetch his horse. Nenya sighed and moved to go speak to Runil who was watching from the door and she was left standing awkwardly with her mare.

The cream coloured horse nudged her and she jumped a bit, startled but seeing its big brown eyes and gentle look made her smile and she relaxed. She took the lead, reaching up to hold the bridle and she began to lead her horse up the path from the graveyard. It occurred to her more than a week ago she might have been in one of those graves if not for her Jarl but she pushed the thought out of her mind.

He was waiting for her near the Eastern gate, his black stallion shaking its head while he sat on it in muted greens and blacks. She came to his side and he dismounted, helping her get on her mare which she realized how weak she still was when she tried. He easily mounted his horse again, moving around her to grab the reins and he led them out, ignoring his guards as they watched.

Once they got out of town he paused and had her come beside him, leading her horse with his, his eyes constantly looking to her and she found herself smiling, her fingers clutching the horn of the saddle tight as she realized he was still worried. He furrowed his brows. “What are you smirking for?”

She flushed a bit. “N-Nothing,” she admitted. “I-I’m… I’m just happy you’re with me.”

He glared at her making her look away in embarrassment but instead of berating her, he merely sighed. “Whatever.” His eyes went down. “How is your leg?”

She looked down at it as if forgetting and she touched where there was a large, ugly bruise, the flesh still tender. “It doesn’t hurt as much as before.”

“Can you kneel?”

She looked up to him. “Kneel?”

He gave her a look. “Kneel. On your hands and knees.”

She found herself flushing and before she could ask a question he cut in. “You don’t really think I’m just going to take you up to my damn manor and leave you, do you?”

She began to stammer. “R-Rayya is there.”

“Send her outside.”

She fidgeted. “M-My bed…?”

“No, the floor. Of course your bed, you idiot!” he snapped and she found herself turning three shades of red, squirming a bit in her saddle making him smile. “What? Don’t you want it? You were begging me not to fucking leave last time.”

She bit her lip and when she didn’t respond his eyes darkened and he slowed his stallion down. “Kjersti.”

She gripped the horn tighter and didn’t meet his eyes making him tense. “Kjersti!”

She turned to him. “W-What happened, after I fell?” He frowned at her and she found herself sighing. “What happened to the elk? M-My horse?”

He pursed his lips. “Why does it matter?”

“It… It just does,” she said quietly, watching him and he gave her a long look, judging her every movement before he relented.

“You fell, your useless horse went running off, that elk charged at you and I shot it,” he said plainly making her frown. “It went down, I slit its throat then picked up your damn body and took you to Falkreath.”

“Y-You just left it there?”

He glared at her. “No. I fucking went back after Runil started working on you and grabbed your damn useless pony and burnt the damn dead beast. Happy?”

She bit her lip and he began to get agitated. “Why does this fucking matter?”

She flushed. “B-Because… You… You didn’t want me to leave either,” she said quietly and he stared at her. “I… I do want you… I want you not to leave…”

He straightened in his seat, looking her over and she flushed. “I’m not going to, you idiot.”

Her breath came out ragged and she stared at her horse, her hands shaking. It was a relief to hear him say so, confirming he cared about her and he was just teasing but she found herself squirming again for another reason. “Now what?”

“At the manor… Will… w-will you… w-will you go down…?” she had to look away before she lost her nerve. “W-Will you go down a-and… and lick…”

“What?!”

She looked to him, her face turning a bright pink and the words were lost on her tongue and she had to look around. Anywhere but at him but he didn’t let it go. He forced her mare to move towards his stallion, the horses a bit resistant but he didn’t care. He grabbed her arm and she went stiff, her eyes accidentally meeting his and she found her heart pounding.

“What do you want,” he said in a tone that made her shiver. She licked her drying lips.

“Y-You,” she said softly. “Y-You… in me…”

He let go of her arm but only to grab her neck, pulling her towards him making her squirm more on the saddle as their legs touched. He leaned over, his eyes on hers and she nearly melted when he stole a kiss, his rough lips making her whimper.

“No more stupid fucking questions,” he said quietly. “And I’ll go down on you all night. Alright? Be a good girl and I’ll damn well make you scream.”

Her heart pounded and she stared at him, her hands shaking but his words made her head light and her legs clench slightly and he let her go, making sure she was sitting right on the saddle before he kicked his stallion, leading them on again. She found herself wanting to go faster, to rush up to her manor now so she could be with him.

She would be good. She would always try to be good for him and when he looked back at her she flushed and he smiled a bit before moving on. She didn’t care what anyone said, she would swear fealty to him again and again and hunt with him and do his bidding. Because in the end she knew he did care for her and it was all she needed.


	49. Lakeside (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unprompted. Something Short.

He was sitting on her deck watching the lake, his eyes dark and expression moody when she came up with the plate and she set it down next to him making him look over in disdain. It had nearly killed her but she had fetched an assortment of berries and cheeses with bread for him, all laid out delicately thanks to Rayya and he merely looked annoyed as she leaned up.

“Please, my Jarl, eat,” she begged and his cheek twitched. He shoved the platter away from him.

“I’m not hungry.”

She fidgeted in distress before moving to his side. “My Jarl, please. You haven’t eaten all day,” she begged and she knelt respectfully before him making him look down, his left hand still pulling at the furs around his neck. “Please.”

He scowled at her. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

She bit her lip. “N-No… but you’re… it’s…” she hesitated. “I-I’m worried.”

He looked down at her, his eyebrow raising in frustration and she lowered her head, shaking a bit in fright. She needed to tell him, though. She was worried for him. “P-Please, my Jarl! If you don’t eat you’ll get sick. And… And getting sick… It’s…” she closed her eyes tight not wanting to think of it. “Please! It wasn’t your fault-!”

A boot came down and hit her, digging into her shoulder making her yelp and she fell forward onto her hands, bowing further as his other leg came up, resting on her and using her as a footstool. She whimpered, staring at the boards below, stiff and uncomfortable but she heard the sound of a knife scraping silver.

She looked up, unable to really see with his boots digging into her shoulder but he had cut something. He was ignoring her, his eyes set down but she saw him eat; he was eating something and she shook a little, looking down so he didn’t see how happy she was, her head bowed deep.

After a while her shoulders stopped hurting and her knees ceased their pain and she was left below him as he ate a few small portions, his body still tense and irritated but she was relieved he was just consuming something.

“Siddgeir…”

There was only silence.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t answer but he moved his feet slightly, one foot falling off but the other remained. She continued to smile and keep bowed to her Jarl.

 

\-------


	50. Severed (F!OC Centric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really just an excuse to get Kjersti and the Dragonborn of her universe, Eloine, meet. Unprompted and I haven't released this outside of my LJ journal...

She was curled against his back, the cold morning air sending a chill down her spine and she opened her eyes for a moment to seek him out, sliding her arm over his ribs so she could hug herself to him. He didn’t move, his breathing still consistent and she fell back to sleep, her body still weary from the night before.

The sound of the door opening made her react a bit but she didn’t stir, assuming it was the steward, Nenya, coming into his room to fetch more paper. Heavy boots met the stones, a dripping noise making her reconsider and she felt it as her Jarl was shaken.

He stirred and so did she, both rising a bit to see who was disturbing them. When she fully opened her eyes there was a girl beside their bed illuminated by the light pooling in from the door and there was a heavy smell of iron making her instantly alert. Her Jarl stiffened and she found herself leaning over him in a way to half protect him, both of them staring at the girl by their bed.

She stared right back, her blue eyes nearly piercing despite the darkness and she lifted up a severed head making both of them freeze. “I killed the leader of Knifepoint Ridge,” she said and her Jarl gawked at her.

“W-What the fuck?!” was all he could sputter and Kjersti held his body tight, a spell ready in her hands as she stared at the lunatic near them. The sounds of light stones on the steps made them look up and Nenya came into the door way, out of breath.

“Eloine,” she panted and the girl turned, her entire face now lit by the light of the Longhouse. “C-Come out of there! I have your coin!”

She looked back down at the horrified couple before she frowned. “But the bounty was put out by the Jarl,” she pointed at him and blood dripped from her gauntlet making him flinch and grab at the sheets to save them from being stained. “Isn’t he the Jarl?”

“Yes, he is, but you come to me!” Nenya stressed and finally the girl moved, more blood dripping from the head and her armor. She followed the stressed steward out leaving the two alone, her Jarl still stiff while she clung to his body.

“What in the fifteen fucking daedra was that?!” he finally said and Kjersti sighed, still against him tight.

“T-The dragonborn, my Jarl.”

He looked at her from over his shoulder with an incredulous look before he slowly began to relax. “Kjersti, go and lock that door. And next time, get up before any more freak shows come in.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said as she got up and rushed across the cold stones, careful not to step in the blood. She shut the door, promptly locking it before she came back to the bed, diving back in to be against him. He grunted but said nothing as he flopped back down on his pillow, the air no longer cold but full of tension and blood.

“You’re cleaning all that up,” he finally said after a while and she leaned against his back.

“I-I know.”


	51. Loyalty Bonds (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be longer but this is pretty good for writing this between visiting with friends.

It piqued his interest the moment he heard it and he had to clarify it, just to satisfy himself. “Say that again?”

She looked to him, confused. “My Jarl…?”

“Say it again,” he said. “What you said a few minutes ago.”

She turned red and fidgeted a little. “I’ve… never been near anyone…?”

“Yes,” he said as he leaned over on his throne, looking her up and down. “What do you mean by that? Never been near anyone?”

She frowned, looking away to fidget as she contemplated what he asked. “Uhm… just what I said? M-My mom… my mom is the only I’ve been around until now?”

He looked down at her, his fingers drumming on the arm of his throne. “No one else?”

“Uhm… That’s right?”

His eyes moved over her and for once he was interested in the damn girl. She wasn’t exactly pretty but he didn’t have much choice in their town and knowing she was pure was intriguing. A blank slate in front of him who he could mold to his will. He studied her, looking to how thin she was, her black hair which was annoyingly short, her green eyes which were sunken and her thin arms.

He’d have to work on her and he got up, looking down at her still as he walked into his room, fetching some mead. She’d need some meat on her, her hair grown longer, and utter and complete submission before he was going to do this. He came back out, moving to her and he reached down, tilting her head up and she looked to him in surprise. He said nothing, merely holding her gaze before he let go and moved back to his throne.

Yes, this could work. Her eyes told him already that he could easily make her relent to him and he sat down, drinking his mead. She sat near him, fidgeting, and he smiled to himself. “Kjersti.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Go fucking get me some more mead.”

She flushed and stumbled as she got up, rushing out the door while he watched her with a smile.

\--

He noticed the first problem when he was coming from the barracks. She was talking to Lod and smiling, her stance relaxed and casual. Lod was looking at her, his eyes moving down her body slightly and he immediately felt something rush inside him.

She was his.

He found himself watching them, his eyes dark and hands moving into fists and he glared at them until Lod looked up and caught his gaze. The blacksmith looked confused and he reached up, indicating he would kill him and the idiot looked shocked.

His newly crowned Thane noticed and turned around to see her Jarl and she rushed to him, flushing. “M-My Jarl! I-I’m sorry! I was coming, really!”

“Get in the damn longhouse,” he hissed and she did as he said, his eyes moving to Lod one more time before he followed her in. Once inside he cornered her in his room. “What were you doing with him?”

“Who?” she frowned and he moved at her making her flinch. “M-My Jarl?”

“The blacksmith, you idiot!” he spat and she gave him a confused look.

“Lod?”

He growled at her and she sunk down a bit. “I don’t want you near him, got it? You are loyal to me and no one else!”

She continued to give him a confused look. “I-I… I was just talking to him.”

He grabbed her, forcing her against him, his forehead hitting hers and she shook, her cheeks turning a bright red. “You will not speak to him, understand?”

“But…”

“Understand?!” he spat and she flinched but nodded. He stared into her still, searching her eyes to make sure she meant it and when they yielded nothing he slowly let go of her and backed off. She sighed, fidgeting and he sneered. “Go sit near my throne and don’t you move for the rest of the day.”

She scurried out and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Damn girl. No one, and he meant no one, was allowed to get near her and it irritated him the damn blacksmith had tried. He was going to see him heavily taxed next run. That would teach him not to tempt his property.

\--

He had taken her as far as he could without penetrating her. He taught her how to kiss, taking her first, as well as suck him off properly so that he could barely last a minute under her tongue. His fingers had been inside her countless times now, prepping her body for him and he got her to physically come, her voice lovely and high and sweet to hear when she screamed his name.

Now he was at a dilemma. Should he fuck her tomorrow and finally take her body for his? Slowly he had gotten her loyalty and submission. He had taken all of her firsts in terms of sexual pleasure. Her first kiss, orgasm, release, blowjob… Should he finally do as he always said and take her for his?

He found himself getting up in the night to think, his body a bit weary. He wandered outside of his room, the coals of the hearth still glowing but slowly their fire was fading and the scones were doused leaving half of his longhouse plunged in darkness. He went outside, taking his dagger with him and the town was quiet, a gentle fog rolling in from the hills.

He sighed, looking to the sky where he could just make out the stars. They were bright, glowing from above and he moved back inside, restless. He could have went and explored or walked about but somehow the changing weather discouraged him. He found himself in his room lighting a candle and slowly he went to his cabinet. He unlocked it, picking out one of the books to read before he went back to his bed, falling down on it with a soft thump.

His eyes scanned the pages, tales of ghosts in the winter storms but after a while he stopped and closed his eyes. He was still restless and his mind went back to her. Should he take her? Should he make her his? She belonged to him and he had every right but was it the proper time? Not that she could leave him if he did it but he somehow found himself… caring about the idiot and he didn’t want to ruin this.

He closed his eyes, his book falling next to him. He hated thinking like this.

He awoke to the feeling of someone beside him, shaking his shoulders which made him stir. “My… My Jarl!” he growled at the sound. “M-My Jarl, please wake!”

He slowly opened his eyes, staring up to meet the green eyes of his Thane, her hair falling off her shoulder and he tilted his head a bit. “What?” he spat at her, a little annoyed she was waking him but he wasn’t completely into his threat. She let go and sat back, biting her lip.

“Nenya needs to see you,” she said and he scowled.

“So?”

She frowned. “I-I… uhm. Well, shouldn’t…?” she stammered and he leaned up, his neck a little stiff and he slapped her thigh hard making her jump before he pointed to behind him. She moved immediately to massage his neck and he thought again to what woke him during the night. Should he take her? Pin her down right now and fuck her into aetherius on his bed? Make her beg and squeal and plead for him?

He turned slightly, looking at her over his shoulder and the more he stared and how nervous she got the more he finally came to the decision he wouldn’t. He did want a fuck, really, but it didn’t seem like the right time and he leaned back into her fingers, sighing as he did. She rubbed his neck, paying special attention to the knots under his skin before he stopped her.

“Kjersti.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Get on your knees and suck me off,” he commanded and she hesitated but moved, sliding off the bed with her cheeks flaming red and he she came before him, looking up at him with that clouded lust hanging behind her eyes. Her hair had grown more, now at a better length, and she had filled out considerably from the skeleton she had once been. He could now grab flesh on her – well, he wished some of that moved to her flat chest but it had not – and slap her thigh without feeling bone.

And as she sat before him her eyes seemed larger and more telling of her emotions and he moved to the side of the bed, pulling his tunic up and she came before him, rubbing him gently, her cheeks flushed. He had to stop her.

“Kjersti,” he said and she paused, waiting. “What do you want?”

She gave him an odd look. “W-What do I want?”

He forced her chin up. “Tell me.”

It took her a moment but her ears flamed red and her fingers flexed on his thighs. “You.”

“Say it again.”

“Y-You,” she breathed, leaning up on her knees. “You, my Jarl.”

He smiled. “Good,” he purred as he stroked her cheek making her flush. “Good girl.” She seemed to beam at his praise and he pushed her head down making her swallow him, her head moving and his voice catching in his throat. He watched her, how eager she was, her loyalty solidified to him and he found himself watching her again.

He wanted to fuck her and make her his, to damn well take her body and have her ride him and beg for him while he pinned her down. He flexed a bit at the thought, getting a bit eager but he restrained himself. She noticed and stopped and he merely sighed, pushing her back down but it was getting him bothered.

“Thane,” he said and she moved a bit slower as she listened. “Tomorrow, we’re going hunting.”

She moved carefully, nodding a bit and he pulled her off of his cock, looking at her. “Hey!”

“A-Alright,” she flushed. “I-I’ll… I’ll come early.”

He smirked. “Good. And wear something loose,” he said as his eyes roamed over her making her flush. “You might get a bit dirty.”

She merely nodded, not picking up on his intentions before she went back down and he smiled to himself, leaning back. Yes, tomorrow she would be his and he would damn well make her scream for him. The thought alone made him come a little too quickly but she cleaned him off, licking up every bit he had spilled making him flush. This damned elf, turning him into this so easily.

He would have been more annoyed if she didn’t smile at him after, licking her lips. He merely pulled down his tunic and snapped his fingers making her move to fetch his clothes. Yes, after tomorrow she would be his and he would damn well make sure she never took on anyone else. She was his and his alone.

She turned. “My Jarl?” she asked. “What would you like to wear today?”

He smirked. “Anything, Thane. Just give me anything.”

 

\-------


	52. Secrecy Amongst Jarls (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Experimenting.

Balgruuf saw them first. It was by accident but really it was their own damn fault. 

He had been riding on the edge of his own lands, scouting for bucks as the leaves were turning gold when he came across a set of horses. A black stallion that was tied away from a tawny mare that was looking like she was filling out. The two horses looked up as he approached on his own white gelding and he frowned when he didn’t hear their riders call out.

He had been wondering if they had been tied by adventurers that met their end on the mountain slopes or in the grass when he heard giggling. He remained where he was, unsure of what to really do, when he saw a woman dart from the trees. She was chased, grabbed, and pushed back against a tall birch by her partner who was dressed in rich golds and reds. He pinned her back, holding her neck, before he kissed her and she arched to him.

Balgruuf was blank for a moment, shocked that he had stumbled on some wealthy lovers but when his mind snapped to, he immediately recognized the cloth. Only the elves in Solitude made such garments and when he saw the shine of jewels on the man’s head combined with his bow he set his jaw tight. He should have called out earlier to alert them he could see but he had to admit dealing with that brat was usually the last thing he liked to do.

The Jarl of Falkreath didn’t even see him as he pinned his Thane back again, his teeth scraping her lip. She clung to him, desperate, her black windswept hair falling more over her shoulder and he didn’t break their kiss as he started wrenching her dress up.

“Siddgeir,” Balgruuf finally said, more out of embarrassment for his poor elven Thane who nearly jumped three feet in the air at the sound of his voice. She turned with a shocked cry and the young Jarl looked up, catching the girl in his arms.

His eyes darkened and Balgruuf snorted. His look didn’t intimidate him but he hoped him finding them would put the brat in his place. Or at least make him more discreet. Jarls shouldn’t interfere with their Thanes or their Housecarls, a lesson he learned the hard way.

“You’re on my lands,” was all he decided to say before he turned his horse and rode back towards the empty plains.

\--

Igmund heard them together when Siddgeir had come to visit. He had convinced the pompous Jarl to help with the fight against the forsworn and he had been surprised at how he had turned up with plans detailing a way to pigeon-hole some of their damned camps. But the Jarl of Falkreath was still young and his rather skittish Thane seemed to be what really was interesting him.

He was thankful they weren’t doing anything, merely talking, but their conversation was still private and he couldn’t help but flush a little at the intrusion. They had been by the pillar leading to the guest quarters, blocked from his view, so he really didn’t know until it was too late.

“She’ll hear.”

“I don’t care,” Siddgeir had hissed. “Kjersti. I’m not waiting.”

Igmund had stopped but not intentionally to eavesdrop. He honestly thought they were discussing something else as his housecarl slept near the guest rooms and he immediately thought they were referring to her. He was going to step out and ask when his Thane spoke.

“Can’t you wait, my Jarl? P-Please? Until Old Hroldan again, where we had a room-” 

She let out a squeak and there was the sounds of one of them moving.

“Kjersti, you damn well swore yourself to me,” Siddgeir growled in a low tone. “So when I say I want a fuck, you damn well bend over, understand!?”

Igmund went red at his words and he heard the poor girl exhale.

“N-Nenya will hear.”

“Like she hasn’t already before.”

There was an exasperated sigh.

“I-I don’t want to… o-on a stone bed,” she begged and she moved into the light making Igmund freeze. He backed up a bit, not being seen but he was still trapped unless he went back to the war room. He looked over his shoulder, contemplating it when there was a gasp that came from the girl before silence and the sounds of a kiss. It didn’t sound gentle, but rough and dominating and he stood in place.

“What did I fucking tell you?”

She let out a pant. “Y…You can’t wait…”

“You belong to me!” he spit. “And if I want you on a stone-goddamn-bed then I will take you on it, by the Divines. And if I want you to blow me when I’m fucking giving a speech, you will do it because I asked! Understand!”

“Y-Yes…”

“Then get in there, get your damn clothes off, and fucking do as I say. Whether Nenya hears or not.”

Rushed footsteps sounded on the stones and he heard Siddgeir let out a weary sigh.

“Fucking elf…”

He waited until he was sure he couldn’t hear them before he moved, eyes on the pillar but no one was there and the door to the guest quarters were closed. He immediately went to find Faleen who was eating a small meal, her tankard half-full.

“Faleen,” he said and she looked to him.

“Yes, my Jarl?”

He didn’t really know how to word it. “When Jarl Siddgeir’s company leaves I want you to do me a favor.”

She frowned and focused on him. “Which is…?”

“Burn the pelts on their beds.”

\--

Elisif figured it out long after everyone else did. While she had to house the insufferable brat and his sweet but stand-offish steward, his Thane worked hard trying to bring in money which he obviously demanded every day. She had advised him against it since the Empire would pay him an allowance but the conversation went south immediately until it turned into a screaming match between the two. He was lucky he was still in the damned palace, for all she was concerned, but his Thane and Steward had pleaded with her so she let him off with a warning.

However, she never noticed that downstairs, all three only occupied two beds. His steward slept in the bed nearest to the fire while Siddgeir had kicked two beds together to make one large one for himself. Elisif had seen it, fighting with him over it as Igmund was coming from Markarth and he needed a bed but the brat didn’t relent.

She had gone downstairs to remind him again the night before Igmund came when she realized there were two people in his bed. Nenya was asleep, the poor dear looking worse every day but his Thane was curved towards the insufferable idiot, her body bare and Elisif had paused upon seeing it.

Siddgeir was asleep, his crown hanging off the post but his Thane stirred and she turned, looking behind her. Elisif went stiff and the poor girl went a deep red and she immediately pulled the sheets up.

“M-My Queen, I-I-I-!”

“N-No,” she cut in, embarrassed. In reality, she should have figured it out. His Thane was literally the only woman willing to put up with his shit. “It’s alright, um, Thane Kjersti. And… I’m not the Queen. You can just say ‘Your Grace’ or, um, something.”

“Um,” the poor girl said, pulling the sheets up tight around herself as she leaned up, her face a deep crimson. Siddgeir stirred from beside her, rolling over making Elisif furrow her brows and the awkward tension in the room seemed to grow. His poor Thane looked to him before back at her. “D-Did… Um. D-Did..? N-No, do you need to speak with my Jarl?”

She contemplated it but somehow she knew it the brat stirred she would be subjected to him either being an ornery asshole or him smirking over the entire thing. She wasn’t in the mood for any of his moods and she raised her head, looking down at his still-red Thane.

“No. But when he wakes, tell him to come see me.”

“Y-Yes, m-my Grace,” she replied and she left them.

Of course, it took hours for the bastard to rise, even longer for him to get ready and she was in the middle of writing out a letter to the new Emperor when he came up. One look at the smirk on his face and she was set in a mood, her eyes going back down to her writing.

“I heard you came downstairs this morning.”

“Shut it, Siddgeir,” she said coldly. “You’re moving one of those beds back. Igmund will be here tonight.”

“Are you sure you want that?” he asked and she bit the side of her cheek. “Elisif?”

“Siddgeir, for the last time-”

“Because I have christened both of those beds.”

That made her look up, her cheeks turning a bright red and he merely grinned nearly sending her into a fit of rage. She had to say something.

“How on Nirn does an asshole like you get a female in your bed?”

“The same way everyone else does,” he said with a smirk that she wanted to slap off his face. “I tell my Thane to bend over and-”

“Stop!” she cut, dropping her quill as she began to rub her temples while he damn well chuckled next to her. “What is wrong with you? You’re a damn Jarl, Siddgeir, temporarily disposed or not! I expect you to still act like one!”

“I do. It’s you who has the problem,” he said in a snide tone. “You ask stupid questions.”

“Because you do stupid things!”

He scoffed. “Says the woman who damn well LET the Stormcloaks take my throne.”

“I told you, I had no fucking choice!”

“Torygg would have fucking made the right choice!”

She was up and nearly on him, blinded by rage. “Siddgeir, I am warning you. One more word about my husband and I will have you killed.”

He glared at her, his emerald eyes dark, his jaw tight but he stepped towards her, not backing down.

“He’s your dead husband.”

She couldn’t restrain herself. As improper as it was and as humiliating as it had become when Falk came in, she got in a good punch and the damned brat only bruised her slightly. She was going to kick him out of Solitude completely until Nenya interjected and she threw the damned brat into Proudspire Manor with his poor Thane.

She didn’t care what they did in there. The only furniture was the stiff wooden bed and a few chairs and they could use them as much as they liked.

Falk, however, gave her a look and she took to her throne, furious, her dress still torn.

“Elisif-”

“Don’t,” she spat. “Don’t you dare say anything!”

He went quiet and for once, she wished she was still naïve to it all.

\--

She knew as soon as she saw them. The way the young Altmer stayed so close to that brat, how she looked to him frequently with a blush on her cheeks and how her aura seemed so similar to his. She watched them out of the corner of her eye as the parade of Imperial legionnaires continued, Siddgeir leaning over a few times to say something and the girl seeming to glow at his every word.

Idgrod sighed and took a drink. She knew love when she saw it but it didn’t mean she approved. She was happy that someone with high magic was with the boy; his thane had a good, calming aura that surrounded her that seemed to slowly be mellowing out the whelp of Falkreath but he was still the brat she knew.

When Elisif made her speech at the end surrounded by General Tullius and his Legate, she observed him roll his eyes twice and snicker once during her speech making the future High Queen grip her fingers together tightly and her lip curl. He had that effect on people and Idgrod had an inkling to give him a scolding but to her surprise, his Thane did it for him.

“My Jarl,” she begged after. “Please don’t make fun of the Queen.”

He gave her a look. “Are you telling me what to do, you stupid elf?”

“No,” she sighed. “I’m just…” She touched his arm, giving him a pleading look and though he looked rather irritated, he didn’t snap back. He instead sat in his chair and grabbed his wine, drinking it rather quick and she gave him a small smile. He growled something she couldn’t hear but the way his Thane suddenly flushed gave her an idea.

The girl was taming him and Idgrod looked into her own drink, taking a sip. What a glorious day it would be if she got him to have some manners and courtesy but she knew that it would be a long ways off before that happened. Not to mention there were still obstacles she would have to go through. Nords were still very prideful and traditional and despite the day and age they were in, mixing with elves or other races was still not encouraged.

She looked to Balgruuf, where he sat with his housecarl Irileth and how close they were yet distant. Unlike Siddgeir, they maintained a stiff boundary in which neither crossed while the brat constantly moved into his Thane’s space, whether intentional or not. Everyone knew Siddgeir’s affection lay with the Altmer by his side by Balgruuf and Irileth only had rumors that were dispelled easily. But Idgrod knew the truth. She could see the magic surrounding them and how they were linked. Magic did not lie.

She looked into her cup again and beside her Aslfur stirred. “Something wrong, my love?”

She cracked a smile. “No, honey,” she said, about to drop it but she decided not. He would understand better than anyone. “Actually, I’m just contemplating some of the forbidden relationships our fellow Jarls are in.”

Aslfur cocked a brow and looked to the Imperial Jarls, new and old. He eventually drew his eyes back to her for an explanation and she smiled a bit before nodding beside her.

“Our friend to the south and his Thane,” she said quietly. “And Balgruuf with his housecarl.”

He pretended to stretch to look beside her and once he did he gave her a look. “That’s… surprising. I was still betting it would be years before anyone got involved with him. Considering what a bastard he is.”

Idgrod smiled at her husband and she patted his hand, looking out at the soldiers who were still fighting with each other, recreating their battle at Windhelm for the crowd.

“If I recall, Aslfur,” she said as she set down her goblet. “You were quite similar when you were young.”

He smiled slightly.

“Or did you think I forgot how pig-headed you were as a boy?”

“I was a boy, my dear. Not a man,” he pointed out.

“Siddgeir is still a boy,” she said to him as she watched a soldier dressed like Tullius advance on a quivering man dressed like the deceased Jarl of Windhelm. “A boy who has his affections for his Thane. Just as Balgruuf does for his housecarl.”

Aslfur frowned at that and she picked up her cup again, taking a sip.

“No one will support their relationships,” he finally said.

“Hence why I was contemplating them, honey.”

“You don’t approve?”

“I never said that,” she said, her brow rising. “I was merely thinking of them. How in this day and in this age, such unions are disliked.”

Her husband gave her a sympathetic smile and he took her hand into his.

“You know no Nord will ever respect a leader who has married out of love than marry one of their own.”

She looked to him, her eyes meeting his. “I married you.”

“You can’t tell my father was Breton,” he pointed out and he lifted her hand, kissing the back. She smiled at his gesture. “But you can tell what children will come from those two. And no Nord will respect it.”

“I know, honey,” she said almost wearily as she cast a glance back to Balgruuf, how he looked to his housecarl with almost longing eyes, his aura intensifying for a moment to her then to Siddgeir and his Thane, how he had let go of her hand and was at a distance yet still leaning towards her. “Magic isn’t something to be feared, nor children of Nords and Elves.”

“No one will see it that way,” Aslfur said and she leaned back in her chair, watching as the Jarl of Windhelm was stabbed by both soldiers portraying Tullius and his Legate, his body falling over in a comical fashion.

They may not but she hoped with the Empire prevailing in its war, its views would begin to extend up to them. Not just for the current Jarls but her future children who she knew deserved to love anyone.

She took another drink.

\--

He finally pulled out making her whimper, her fingers gripping his blankets tight and he sighed before falling onto his bed, the straw shifting under his weight. He never came more than twice during the night but the damn girl was teasing him so much he seemed to get an extra boost from it and now he was too exhausted to move.

She wasn’t as she raised her head and crawled to him and he shot her a look but eventually let her cling to him, the slight curve of her breasts pressing against his ribs. She kissed his shoulder.

“My Jarl…”

“What?”

She kissed his shoulder again, her lips lingering and he looked at her before gripping her and forcing her to move up more, his hand burying in her hair and one of her legs hooked over his.

“Idiot,” he finally said and she just smiled, nuzzling his neck. “You keep this up and I’ll really punish you, you hear?”

She giggled a bit, her arms wrapping around his neck but he didn’t push her off. The heat of her body was rather welcome and he stroked her back, his fingers lingering between her shoulder blades.

She kissed his neck, moving up slightly to nibble at his ear and he shifted, his cock twitching a bit.

“Kjersti.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t,” he warned. “I’m tired.”

She stopped but he could tell she was pouting slightly making him slap her upside the head and she flushed deeply.

“S-Sorry.”

“You better be,” he muttered but she didn’t say anything more and lapsed into silence, his eyes eventually growing tired. He was settling down to fall asleep, his arm moving down to cup her to him when she stirred.

“Siddgeir?”

“Hn,” he grunted.

“Do you think anyone knows about us?”

That made him frown and open his eyes, looking to her. She was giving him an innocent look, biting her lip and he couldn’t help but stare at her.

“Of course people know,” he said. “The way you throw yourself at me… anyone could figure that out.”

She sighed, flushing and he moved to go back to sleep when she spoke yet again.

“I meant, do you think… do you think anyone sees us and… disapproves?”

He opened his eyes again, slowly pursing his lips at the thought. He turned to look at her and she was leaning up, staring deep into his eyes which unnerved him.

“What do you care if anyone sees us and doesn’t like it?”

She continued to frown. “I… don’t…”

He grunted again, pulling away to turn over. “Then what’s your problem?”

“I don’t like rumors…” she said quietly. “A-And I don’t like people thinking poorly… of you.”

He stared at his dressers, flushing slightly at her words and he turned back over, grabbing her making her squeak and she was forced into his arms. She stiffened, not sure on what to do but he held her against himself, closing his eyes again.

“Go to sleep,” he finally commanded.

“S-Siddgeir…”

“Do it!” he snapped silencing her. “We’ll speak about it in the morning.”

She exhaled slightly, her fingers drawing over his body but she finally relented and she was asleep before he was. He stared at her for a moment his fingers stroking her back and he thought of the other Jarls. Balgruuf judging him despite him damn well fucking his housecarl. Igmund and his damned obsession with the forsworn over any woman. Idgrod being just… a nutcase. And Elisif. The fucking queen herself.

He looked down at his Thane again, how she was pressed up to him, cheeks slightly flushed, sweat cooling on her body and he slung his arm over her side.

Fuck them.

 

\-------


	53. Chasing it Down (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: I don't know why that gets me so hot and bothered but it does. So why not. How about some foreplay action? Don't even care for plot.
> 
> I remember this only because I wrote this in the time that there was this really nice girl who contacted me through tumblr. She liked my stuff. To this day, I regret not trying harder to connect with her. She liked the writing I did around this time and I'll always be grateful for her comments.

The sun was still barely streaming in through the windows when she came to him, her robes a bit dirty from fetching firewood but otherwise smooth and presentable and he looked at her, frowning.

“My Jarl,” she said softly. “Do you wish me to undress you tonight?”

He raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

She seemed to flush but repeated herself. “Do you wish me to undress you tonight?”

He merely stared at her before looking past to see where in oblivion Nenya was and of course, she was nowhere to be seen making him scowl. His eyes moved up making her frown. “Why?”

“B-Because… y-you need to be undressed…?” she stammered, her fingers starting to fidget, her voice less confident and he stared down his Thane, his fingers tapping on the arm before he was up and she moved back. He went right up to her, judging her every movement, the way she stiffened, her cheeks turning red, her eyes wide and he nearly growled.

The damn elf was up to something. He just was entirely unsure of what. His scrutiny didn’t seem to reveal anything and after she looked about ready to faint he leaned back and snapped his fingers. “Get in there.”

She nearly collapsed in relief and he watched her scurry in making him sigh. He looked upon his court, to where Skulnar was reading in his wine cellar, to Helvard who was looking at his sword as if it was made out of gold and he went to his room, shutting the door. Whatever. It was just another typical fucking boring night in his longhouse except the absence of his stupid steward did make him suspicious.

Though looking to his eager Thane he wondered if she had something to do with it the way she was practically drinking him in with her eyes making him scowl. “Thane.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Smarten the fuck up,” he snapped causing her to blush and stare at him in confusion before he went to the side of his bed. He pulled at the chains around his neck, tossing them to the side making her nearly leap to catch it and he pulled off his crown, sighing after he did. He ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion, feeling how he’d soon need a wash and he turned on her holding up his crown which she delicately took.

As she put them away he went to sitting on his bed and she came back and fell to her knees without a command, taking off his boots and trousers before fetching his nightwear, careful as she did. He watched her, feigning disinterest, how she swept along the stones and his eyes kept moving down to her ass. She was rather flat, in every department, but when she bent over he did have to tilt his head a bit and admire. She was rather… cute.

However, when their hands touched briefly by accident as she undressed him making her blush like a newly taken bride it made him scowl at her stupidity but other than that she acted like her usual, idiot self which made him wary.

She wanted something.

It didn’t take him long to figure it out when he pulled his royal tunic off and caught her flushing as she stared at his body, hungrily.

So that was it. How quaint. He didn’t draw attention to the fact he saw and decided to toy with her first. For his own amusement. After all, what the fuck else was he going to do.

“What do you want?” he said and she flushed.

“N-Nothing,” she replied, moving to fold his clothes and he narrowed his eyes as he watched her. She was terrible at hiding what she wanted.

“Liar,” he accused and she fidgeted. Honestly; it made him nearly roll his eyes. “Just say what you want, you idiot!”

She turned her back, folding his clothes in a quick motion before she properly put them away and she stood for a moment, facing his wardrobe.

“Kjersti,” he said her name which made her fidget. “Tell me what you want!”

“…M-May I stay with you tonight?”

He frowned. “Why?” She hesitated before giving a small shrug, not facing him and he waited impatiently for an answer but she didn’t speak. He began to growl. “Why?!”

“J-Just because…” her voice wavered and he let out an annoyed breath. Gods, this stupid girl. He wanted to deny her just to remind her of who fucking controlled who; also for the fact that his goddamn bed was his and not for sharing but his eyes moved down and he studied her body hidden underneath her stupid robes. It had been nearly a week since he relieved himself and he tapped his fingers on his bed before he got up. She turned, looking to him, her doe-like eyes focused on his and he went to her side and gripped her dress near her hips making her pause.

He began roughly pulled it up making her squeak, the stupid garment being turned inside out as he yanked it over her head and he threw it on the ground, looking down at her. She turned a bright red, crossing her arms over her chest and lower body and he found himself smiling.

“Where’s your undergarments?” She immediately avoided his gaze and began to fidget, her knees pressing together and he smiled. “Kjersti… Why did you want to stay with me tonight?”

“I-I… I-I j-j-just…” she stammered, becoming more embarrassed which made him smile and he leaned over her making her press against his wardrobe.

“If you wanted a fuck, you just had to say,” he teased and he could practically feel her ears burn.

“I… d-didn’t…”

“Oh, shut up,” he cut in. “Be honest with yourself.”

She flushed and looked to him, biting her lip for a second making him twitch in desire. She opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her before she could say anything more, tasting what was his, her lips shaking against him which only turned him on further. He gripped her neck, feeling her pulse and how her skin was a bit cool and he moved to nip at her jaw, smirking at the shiver that ran through her as a whimper escaped her throat. He dominated her for a moment, loving how she squirmed under him, how her pulse quickened and her thighs pressed together and he relented only to grab her to throw onto his bed making her yelp.

She nearly bounced, her legs spreading for a second making him grin as he caught a glimpse and he contemplated on how to go about this. She started leaning up and he was back on her, pushing her to the bed, her cheeks a deep red but she let out a pant and he kissed her as a reward.

He looked down, studying her lithe frame, the scars that ran over her stomach and his eyes moved back up. He’d pleasure her in a bit. For now, he wanted to watch her. It was his every right to.

“Kjersti,” he said making her look to him biting her lip. “Suck me off.”

She hesitated, his crass words making her shift but she eventually moved and he took to laying on his bed, slapping her thigh making her jerk as she did as he commanded. She crawled over him, moving to sit between his legs, her eyes on his body but her shyness still showed and he snapped his fingers making her stop delaying. She pushed his tunic up, tugging at the strings to pull away the fabric of his own undergarments before she started.

Her breath hit him first making him purse his lips and she gently angled his cock, licking it slowly making him sigh. This fucking elf. She moved to taking him in, her cheeks flushing a bit and he reached down, his hand combing through her hair. He moved the strands back so he could see her, smiling to himself at how red her cheeks got and she began to suck. Gods, it was maddening, she was so slow and deliberate about it but damn if it didn’t get him off.

He reached down, pushing her hand against his cock, wanting her to get him fully erect and she did as he wanted. Her hand joined and she pulled off, kissing the tip before she worked to get him hard and he fell back a bit, struggling as he felt her against him. Her hands were soft and warm and he nearly got up to just throw her down and fuck her but he restrained himself. He instead closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried not to let her actions work him up too much but, gods be damned, it was hard. There was a reason he did bed her, he just usually forgot until she was touching him and panting below.

Her mouth was back on him, sucking quietly, her body shifting and he opened one eye to see her moving to lick up his shaft, doing so almost lovingly. He reached down and gripped her hair, stroking the strands and he found himself falling into a bit of a rhythm as he did. She merely moved along his shaft, her mouth making a bit more noise, small pants escaping when she pulled off before she went right back on him.

“Thane,” he found himself saying as he rubbed his eyes and she paused. “Go down.”

He could hear her hesitate but she did as he asked, her hand moving to stroke him making him shiver for a second as her tongue met his sack.

Fuck, it felt good.

It felt even better when she pulled up and started nursing his slit, her fingers gently massaging him as she continued to stroke.

He never taught her that but wherever she figured it out, he was grateful. It was what he liked about her. She acted so shy in her movements, embarrassed at what he asked of her but when she stopped being so bothersome, she was exactly what he wanted. Submissive and utterly in love with pleasuring him which he deserved.

She moved quicker, stopping only to pull off and jerk him a bit, her tongue connecting with his shaft to lick up and she was back down, moaning and savouring it which made him shift, his breath catching in his throat. He had to grip her head and push her down, watching her eyes open a bit in shock before she closed them, her cheeks red as she sucked harder and he had to restrain himself.

He took to rewarding her instead, his throat a bit dry as he spoke. “Good girl.”

It seemed to make her respond more, her fingers tightening around him and she pulled off, jerking him off quickly, her tongue hungrily lapping at his slit making his stomach tighten and his muscles in his legs tense. Gods be damned, this girl. She didn’t stop and his nails started digging into her skull as he started to lose it and he fell back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before – gods, her tongue – he had to look at her again. She was going down, taking him to the base and he struggled not to moan as he watched and she whimpered against him.

“Kjersti,” he hissed and she didn’t let up. He wanted to snap at her but she went down, taking him in fully before pulling off completely with a loud ‘pop’ her eyes moving to stare at him, glazed over with pleasure and she went back. Fuck, did she ever go down and he couldn’t help it when she added her hand to chase her mouth and he lost it.

Stupid fucking elf.

She didn’t catch it all in time and he hissed, feeling her tongue rolling over him as she tried but it was rather late for it. She ended up cleaning him as he came back down from his high, his fingers rubbing his eyes before he properly looked to her. His seed was dripping off her lips and chin, the white noticeable against her flushed skin and she looked up at him, quiet as she gave him one final lick before leaning back and touching her face. 

She did so in a maddeningly innocent way as if she had never seen his seed before and she brushed some off before bringing her fingers down to stare. There was a moment of hesitation where he didn’t even know what to expect until she brought her fingers up and he felt his ears burn as he watched her lick what was on her hand.

It was when she licked her lips as if savouring it that he lost it and he was up, grabbing her roughly making her cry out; he was on her, kissing her damned, filthy mouth, his fingers in her hair and she squirmed underneath him. Her smooth, thin legs rubbed against his, her body twisting when he gripped her ass and he damn well savoured it. He just wanted to mark her entire body as his and make sure no one ever fucking touched her but him.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried out, her tone embarrassed but he didn’t care. He kissed her neck, biting at her pulse before he started leaving noticeable red kisses on her skin declaring she was his for his own pleasure. She whimpered but leaned into it, spreading her legs and he growled as he sucked her skin, tasting it as he knew what she wanted. 

He should repay the favor, go down on her and make her scream his name but he withheld his desire to do so. If he did what she always wanted then she might get it into her empty little head she could always have it and him going down on her was a treat; it was a reward when she really pleased him or when he just wanted to piss off Nenya by making her scream his name, and he leaned up licking his lips.

She bit her lip, her eyes hazy and her hair starting to become a mess and he stroked the strands, messing it up even more to make her look absolutely desperate for him. He smirked, pleased, her submission nearly getting him hard again but he took his mind off it by trailing his fingers down her body, tracing her slight curves.

She shifted, flushing, her hands fidgeting on his bed and he moved down to past her stomach as his eyes checked her for a second. It was too hard to tell until he slid his fingers lightly over her folds, the tips becoming soaked and her body arching desperately for him when he did. Of course she was wet. He barely had to do anything and she would be for him.

He contemplated it again, going down and sinking his tongue into her to make her scream but he restrained himself again, teasing her by stroking her inner thighs and ignoring where she wanted it. “You’re wet, girl.”

She panted in response, her cheeks flushing. “I can’t… help it…”

He tried to hide his smile. Of course she couldn’t, she never could, that was her excuse for everything when it came to him bedding her. He decided to toy with her, mostly for his own amusement but to make sure she damn well wasn’t just feeding him what he wanted to hear. After all, he could always go pick up a wench to slick his lust or use his hand but she, on the other hand, wouldn’t dare take on a lover while serving him.

Or she better fucking not otherwise he’d kill her.

“You can’t help it,” he said quietly, eyeing her. “Are you that desperate for a cock?” Her eyes seemed to sharpen and she stared at him, swallowing before shaking her head. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “Would you be this brazen with just anyone? Unable to control yourself?!”

“N-No!” she leaned up, giving him an almost fearful look which made him grin internally. “N-No! J-Just… O-Only you…”

“How do I know that?” he hissed at her, leaning over as he pushed her back against the bed and his fingers ghosted over her pulse. “How do I know you only want me? You can’t control yourself. You just said so.”

She was up and gripping his arms, giving him a look of almost horror. “W-When I’m o-on you! I can’t help it!”

“Why?!”

She swallowed and he gave her a look. She better not bloody well bring up a declaration of love and she seemed to sense it as he glared at her.

“Because… Everything about you makes me…” she hesitated in embarrassment and he had to again repress a rather wolfish smile.

“What, Kjersti?” he demanded and she flushed. When she wouldn’t speak, her entire face red he grabbed her hand making her stiff. “Show me then. What I do to you.”

He swore he could see her entire body tense in a single motion at his request and he growled at her reminding her she did as he asked. It took a moment but she reached down, her fingers shaking and he leaned up to watch in utter amusement. She spread herself making him smirk and she refused to meet his gaze as she did. He didn’t care as he watched her shake, her fingers sliding up herself, how shy she was and how small her hands were and he nearly fucking lost it.

He reached down to grip her wrist making her stop, her skin still cool to the touch now and he moved her hand back down. “Rub.”

“W-What?”

“Do it,” he hissed, guiding her a bit harsher than he wanted making her flinch a little. “Show me, Thane!”

She didn’t move for a second, biting her lip before she finally did only it wasn’t the way he expected. She reached up and took his hand making him look at her and she moved his fingers down to press him against her body. He didn’t move, furrowing his brows as he was ready to chew her out when she started to move them along with her own. She refused to look up, her ears a bright red as she moved his hand along with hers and he slowly relaxed his shoulders.

He allowed her to use his hand, her breaths soon coming out in pants as she made him rub her along with her own fingers and he gave way a bit to spread her, feeling how hot she was against him and she shivered.

Just as she started to thrust her hips a bit, her folds getting a bit slicker he pulled away and she whimpered making him glare at her. He had to admit it was cute what she was doing and he fucking knew she hated touching herself. He nearly asked once on why until he remembered he didn’t care and he took to grabbing her and forcing her onto his lap, slapping her legs apart as he reached and held her back to his chest. She went stiff, her chest rising and falling and he sighed.

“Relax, you fucking idiot,” he growled into her ear. He reached back down, spreading her making her whimper and he nipped at her ear. “Now continue. I believe you’re showing me just how I fucking affect you…”

She swallowed and he watched her eyes move down. “Y-Yes, my Jarl...” Her hands shook as she reached back down and she pushed his fingers against herself, shaking but he held her steady. “You… make me feel…”

“Show,” he said against her. “Don’t fucking talk.”

She arched her back a bit but was silenced, her fingers moving a bit more desperately after as she started to loosen up. He could feel it as her desire began to grow, how she dug her nails into his skin, how her legs spread more, her back arched, her whimpers sounded more heated and he drew circles around her clit to tease her to draw out more. 

He loved seeing her in such a state for him, the power he had over her intoxicating and he moved his free hand up to force her to turn her head. He licked her lips, growling when she didn’t open them and she had to shift a bit to indulge him.

She ended up kissing him desperately, like a young teenage girl did with her illicit lover and he pushed her more against him, his fingers moving to give her long, rewarding strokes. The way she gasped between his kisses, her eyes locked on him in a mindless haze of lust, her body responding so well to even the smallest touch it made him lick his own lips in desire and he went down, pushing his fingers into her, thrusting as a second reward making her fall against him.

“Siddgeir,” she begged and he growled.

“What?”

“P-Please!”

He nipped at her ear, purposely dragging his teeth over her lobe, biting down just enough to make her whimper. “No.”

She arched, aching, he could nearly feel it and he continued his movements smirking as she started panting. He started licking her ear knowing full well it would drive her crazy and it took barely a minute before she was riding him, her fingers barely moving against herself as she just let him dominate.

He would have actually done something about it but he figured he bothered her enough. She was allowed to get off and he did want to see her come as it amused him and he thrust his fingers in harder causing her to start begging even more.

“S-Siddgeir! Siddgeir… I… I need it! Please!”

“No,” he hissed, his fingers curling up a bit and she nearly thrashed.

“S-Siddgeir!”

He bit her neck causing her to tense, the friction making his cock stir again as she cried out and she bucked against him and he tried to hold her steady. She was losing it, he could feel it and he pulled out to tease her clit making her even worse. He left her neck, licking her jaw right back to her ear making her shake and he smirked before he started hissing against her.

“Beg, Thane,” he purred, going back to tease her entrance, spreading her before diving his fingers in again making her moan and he paused. “Beg for it!”

“My Jarl!” she was cut off by a cry coming from her throat and he smirked as he looked at her, his eyes moving over her body and how she was struggling. He dragged his other hand over her, making sure he stroked her breast causing her to shout before he growled again at her.

“Beg!”

“Please!” she choked out. “P-Please, Siddgeir! P-Please, p-please let me come!”

He smiled, thrusting in harder. “Why?”

She flushed. “I-I… I need it!”

“Do better than that,” he scoffed and she whimpered, thrusting down hoping to draw more of him in but he nearly withdrew on purpose making her groan in frustration. “Kjersti!”

“Please!” she begged again. “P-Please, please, please, please-!”

“Say my name!” he said, but he did it more out of control than want. He had to focus on fucking her with his fingers, feeling her insides, moving towards that spot he knew would take her over the edge and she panted harder her skin hot against his.

“Siddgeir! S-Siddgeir, Siddgeir please!” she cried. “Please, Siddgeir! Siddgeir! Siddgeir, please! Please! I need it, my Jarl! P-Please!”

He didn’t say anything, his brows fixing as he moved further into her and he curled his fingers up, searching when she bucked hard and shouted. He had to hold her down, slapping her hard on her backside to calm her but she was losing it, her head falling back and he sighed.

Whatever.

He stopped holding back and forced her legs apart more, fucking her roughly with his fingers, her damn fluids coating his palm but he didn’t care. She was thrashing against him, begging him to stop and never stop and other ridiculous nonsense when she tightened around him.

“Come on, girl,” he said quietly as if to himself. “Come on, come for me.”

“S-Siddgeir!” she choked out. “Siddgeir, I’m-! A-Ahh!”

“Come for me…” he hissed, focused on rubbing that spot, right where he knew she couldn’t take it and her legs began to shake. “Kjersti-!”

She finally broke and she nearly let out a scream but she covered her mouth to stop it, her entire body twisting and falling back making him catch her as he milked her for what she was worth. She came more than he anticipated, his fingers and hand getting soaked and he pulled out to watch her buck, tears in her eyes from pleasure and her toes curling as she collapsed against him. He rubbed her wet folds, soothing her as he did while he grinned and she was soon limp against him as if she has just died and gone to Aetherius.

He tossed her on the bed, wiping his hand off on her body before he kissed her. She barely responded back but he didn’t really care. He was rather more interested now in just taking in how useless she was after he did something as simple as teasing her insides and he smirked.

She did look rather well-fucked and it got his cock twitching again. Well, once she was up he’d cure that. He slapped her thigh lightly to draw her out of her exhaustion but she still didn’t move. “Kjersti. Get up.”

She groaned and he rolled his eyes. Whatever. He reached over to grab the blankets, pulling them up to make himself more comfortable when her hand moved over his cock making him stop and he looked down. She was biting her lip, her tired eyes open and on him and she rolled onto her side. “Siddgeir… please… let me…”

He furrowed his brows though he was amused she was responding already. “I thought you were done for the night?”

She shook her head before a blush ran over her cheeks. “I… want you… I can’t… help it.”

Slowly he began to smile at her words. This stupid fucking elf. He slapped her thigh hard, forcing her onto her back and he dragged her towards him making her yelp. He wasn’t tender as he grabbed her flesh, digging his nails into her hips leaving small marks before he leaned over her.

“Insatiable idiot.”

“Only for you,” she panted and he smirked. Well, whatever. That’s the way it should be. He should be the only man fucking her damned, tight body. He gave her ass a slap before he entered, making sure she felt it as he pushed her to his bed. He wasn’t going to be gentle – he hated doing this shit slow like some lovesick Breton or Imperial – and she let out a pant almost in happiness making him raise a brow. This fucking elf.

“You better scream my name, understand?” he growled, gripping her hair which felt silky and smooth against his fingers. “Thane?!”

“Y-Yes…” she moaned. “I-I will…”

“What was that?” he snapped pulling hard back her arch and she turned slightly, her mouth open as she let out a soft moan.

“Yes, my Jarl…”

 

 

He didn’t remember much after that other than he fucking lost it before she did. She had been squirming against him, shouting his name in a way he could still hear and he let out a soft sigh as he turned on the bed, the candles having burned out save for the one by the door. It made him stretch and rub his eyes. He had no idea what time it was.

She was curled slightly beside him, her small chest rising and falling slowly, her body deep in slumber and he reached over to touch her feeling her cool skin. The low candlelight didn’t illuminate a lot but he could slightly make out her features and he pulled the blanket up and looked down. He could make out the scars on her stomach and he sighed, tossing the woven linen back over her before he got up. He rubbed his face, feeling his exhaustion, how his hips ached a little before he pulled his bunched up tunic down and grabbed his loincloth from off the floor.

He tugged on his boots and went out to take a piss, the sky still dark and the town quiet making him sigh. One of the guards looked at him in shock and he glared in irritation until they went stiff and stared straight ahead. He didn’t need his fucking soldiers gawking at him as if he was a one-legged dog and he made a mental note to berate Helvard later for it. He was allowed to walk outside and take a fucking piss without looks from lowly idiots.

When he returned she was still in the same position and he took to lying beside her, kicking off his boots before he did. He tried to go back to sleep, his body still aching a bit but he couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

It was getting closer to dawn when he slapped her, waking her immediately from her slumber, her body tense and eyes wild. “M-My J-Jarl!?”

“Relax,” he muttered. “It’s nothing. But wake the fuck up. It’s practically dawn.” She stared at him before slowly settling down, her hands shaking a bit and he snorted. “Oh, come here.”

He grabbed her and hauled her against him making her squawk but she soon nestled against him and before he knew it she was tangling her legs with his, her cheek rubbing against his chest. He sighed.

“Kjersti.”

“Y-Yes?”

He stared at the ceiling. “Where did you learn some of those tricks?” When she didn’t answer and he turned to see her confused he scowled. “When you were blowing me.”

She turned red and hesitated making him wary. If she was fucking someone else…

“I… tried them on you.”

He frowned. “When?”

“…When you were sleeping.”

He stared and she began to fidget in embarrassment. He actually couldn’t believe he just heard that. “You dirty whore.”

She turned red. “Y-You liked it when y-you were sleeping! H-Honest! You came once… and I… It was thick and-”

He was on her, pinning her to the bed making her yelp and he stared down at her, his nails digging into her skin. What an insatiable slut! He would have been more pissed off if it weren’t for the fact he was sort of getting off on the thought of her sucking him off in his sleep. That actually would explain a few choice dreams he had and he leaned over her making her whimper.

“How dare you… You little brat! You fucking owe me for this!” he hissed, trying to be menacing despite how now he could feel his cock becoming hard. “Get out of this bed and on your knees.”

“W-Why?!” she whimpered and he snapped at her neck making her shake, her body becoming submissive under him getting him even harder.

“Because I’m going to show you how to really please me…”

She looked up, her worried eyes soon becoming curious and she licked her lips.

“H…How?”

He leaned down until his forehead was almost touching hers, his fingers digging into her skin and feeling how she tensed but her legs spread and her back arched a bit. She was playing right into him, he knew it and he nearly kissed her in response but he restrained himself.

“Get off the bed and on your knees.”

“Yes, my Jarl…” she whispered and he smirked before letting up.

He allowed her to slip out from his grip, her naked body brushing against his before she got off the bed and fell to her knees by the side. He merely watched her, smirking, studying her as she waited for him, her cheeks red and her hair hanging down, slowly growing to the length he wanted.

He supposed once he was done he should reward her with a good tongue bath. She did deserve it for once for last night and he was starting to crave her taste. He’d only go down for her a bit though. She wasn’t really in the deserving position to be absolutely spoiled by him. 

He swung his legs over the edge, pulling his tunic up and she moved to between his knees but he stopped her. “What do you say first?”

She flushed. “P-Please, my Jarl. I need it.”

He smiled. “Of course you do.”


	54. Calm Down (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Pick any NPC (from the most famous to the most unexpected) and reveal the story of his first time to the meme! What was it like? What did they feel? How did it happen? With whom?
> 
> All I remember is this was when I decided to stop with them.

She was pushed into the bed more, her body tensing as he thrust down harder and before she could adjust, he grabbed her hair pulling her head back a bit causing her to cry out, her toes curling. He slapped her backside, roughly fucking her into her bed and she bit her lip, shaking as she could feel herself finally starting to move towards an orgasm when he stilled and his nails dug deep into her skin.

“M-My Jarl-!” she gasped, feeling how tense he was, a groan catching in his throat before his hands hit her shoulder blades and she cried out as he started to wildly pound her down into the straw. She bit her pillow, whimpering as she felt him come and he remained above her even after his hips stopped moving, slowly gripping her skin, his forehead hitting her shoulder and he stilled.

She panted below, her body hot and aching and he slapped her hot skin, his fingers moving down. “M-My Jarl?” she asked, trying to turn to see him but he held her steady and his hand moved under her, searching until he found her clit. He stroked, his rough fingers making her jerk and clench around him, his teeth running over her shoulder causing her to twitch and she found herself struggling beneath, bucking back against his spent cock and his fingers which were moving her to the brink.

She began to kick out, the blankets beneath them shifting more and he nipped at the tip of her ear which caused her to shout. “Come for me, Kjersti,” he growled and she shivered, flushing deep. “Come for me, girl.”

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged, unable to stop thrusting back and she fell against her bed, moving hard against him. He spread her, his middle finger teasing her clit, rubbing in a circular motion before giving her long strokes that she felt to her toes and she finally started to come, tensing as she did.

He sucked on the tip of her ear causing her almost an unbearable amount of pleasure and she came against him, thrusting back desperately on his cock, her own hand reaching to grab his wrist and force his fingers to stay between her legs to help but he pulled away. He grabbed her, moving off her body making her whine, his frame still above but he forced her to turn and his mouth was against her own making her melt.

He kissed her, his hand lacing into her hair, his other sliding up her body to tilt her neck more and she groaned against him in utter bliss. She loved his touch, his taste, how possessive he was and she gave in willingly, moaning against his lips. His skin was hot when it came in contact with her own but she didn’t care. He was kissing her, making her submissive to him and she accepted it more than a little discomfort, still in the glowing aftermath of their utter lewd lovemaking.

When he started to pull away she tried to get him to move back down but he refused, growling at her. “Don’t get clingy.”

“S-Sorry.”

“You better be,” he muttered and he fell down beside her, exhaling as he did. Slowly he started to relax, his fingers moving to rub the bridge of his nose and she crawled to his side, her cheeks still red and her head light when he looked to her.

“Siddgeir,” she gingerly touched his chest and he said nothing, his green eyes sharp as they stared at her. “It’s still early. D-Do you want to go again?”

He said nothing for a moment. “Give me some time, you insatiable girl.”

She flushed. “D-Don’t you like it?”

“Did I say that I didn’t?” he snapped and she flushed at his harsh words. “Idiot. Come here.” She obeyed and he pulled her against him, her cheek hitting his neck and she flushed as he held her naked body to his own, their breathing soon lessening and the air around them making her shiver. She curled herself against him like a young cub, burying her face against him making him grunt and they lay in silence, the sounds of the hearth outside crackling and crickets chirping the only noise in between.

She found herself counting his heartbeats when he shifted her, making her fit beside him better while his hand went to play with her hair and she flushed, looking up to him. He was staring at the ceiling quiet, his brow still shining with sweat and his lips still swollen and it made her lick her own in desire. She reached up, touching his cheek making him glare at her and she pursed her lips.

“Siddgeir… who was your first?” she asked innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “My first what?”

“Lover?” His eyebrow raised as he stared at her making her flush and she gave him a sincere look which only seemed to make him more suspicious. “I-I’m just… curious. T-That’s all.”

“What do you care who I took to bed first?”

She shrugged and her eyes fell down in embarrassment. She could feel him still staring at her making her fidget, her fingers locking together and twisting until he slapped her and she stopped. “S-Sorry.”

“Idiot,” he muttered but he soothed the back of her head, his nails lightly scratching her skull as if he was apologizing. “My first was a mouthy Dunmer woman. Happy?”

She looked up in shock. “A-A Dunmer?”

“What did I just say?” he snapped and she flushed. They fell into silence again, her fingers still fidgeting as she tried to lie against him but the curiosity was bothering her. She leaned back up.

“What was it like?”

“Excuse me?” he glared at her and she felt her ears burn.

“W-Was she… did you like it more… than you do with me?” He stared at her, his eyes becoming hard and steeled and she started to fidget even more. “I…I just…”

“Stendarr’s dick, Kjersti. Grow up,” he said and she flushed even more in embarrassment, reaching up to touch her cheeks, her body shivering from the cold air once again. It was just a question. She just was curious, that was all. Wasn’t she? “Just because I’m not ready to pound your fucking pussy again in less than a minute after I already came doesn’t mean I’m done with you.”

“S-Sorry,” she said. Of course. “M-My Jarl, sorry.”

“Stop saying that you idiot!” he snapped as he leaned up on his forearms. “I know you’re not! And even if I did like her better, what would that matter? She’s gone and you’re here. Though if you keep pissing me off, you’re never going to have my dick in you again.” She looked at him, pleading and he stared at her hard before he rolled his eyes. “Come here.”

She did as he asked again and he pulled her onto him, holding her tighter to his body making her squirm and grip him, desperately feeling his skin against her own. He growled, kicking her legs out and forcing her to adjust so he was comfortable before they lay again in awkward silence once more, the sounds of the crickets outside dying down. 

She closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest and as he brought his hand up again, his fingers playing absently with the strands he spoke. “She was a traveller.”

“Who?” she raised her head and he slapped her making her yelp.

“Who do you think, stupid? You asked me the damn question!”

“S-Sorry…” she reached up to hold her head, flushing a bit from the pain and he snorted.

“Idiot… Whatever. She’s was older than me. A lot older. Not that I obviously care about elves and their age,” he muttered as he gave her a look and she frowned, knowing he was referring to her own. He pulled her back down, letting her sink into place and he sighed once she was settled. “She wasn’t anything special. She was just a loudmouth.”

“How old were you?” she asked quietly and he thought about it silently allowing her to settle against him more, her fingers playing with his chest hair.

“I don’t know. Maybe twenty-three winters in. It’s been a while,” he said and she quietly thought on it.

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged. “She left. She was a traveller, that’s what they do. Travel,” he emphasized but after a minute he leaned back, sinking deeper into her bed and she found herself looking to him, her heart beginning to pound a bit.

“Did you love her?”

“No.” Her shoulders fell in relief and he looked down at her, taking notice making her flush. “What? What would you have done if I said I was?”

“Nothing.”

“Idiot,” he muttered. “She was… She was just aggravating. She got on every damn nerve I had. Used to sit in the Inn and brag about all the kills she did but when you ask her to hunt she’d make up an excuse. She was annoying.”

Kjersti couldn’t help but smile. “You still took her to bed…”

“It wasn’t as if we planned it, idiot. She just pissed me off one night and the next thing I remember, I was in her bed.”

She gaped. “J-Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he repeated her line. “We fought, then we fucked and after we slept together. The end.”

There was a silence and she leaned up. “T-That was your first time?”

“Yeah,” he gave her a look. “What were you expecting? Roses and incense? A moonlight walk?”

She flushed and laid back down, her cheek pressing against his chest as she was rather shocked at how lackluster it was. She expected more, like he had seduced her or fallen to her whims or something. Not they argued and then he lost his virginity. “N-No,” she finally said and he nudged her a bit. 

“I fucked you in an old elk circle. You never complained that wasn’t romantic. You actually seemed to like it.”

She turned a bright red and buried herself against him in shame as she remembered the first time he took her. “T-That…”

“Whatever,” he smirked before he reached down and grabbed her hand, moving it to his cock making her blush. “Stroke, Kjersti. And use your mouth as well. Your last blow job wasn’t that satisfying.”

She bit her lip, rather ashamed at his words but she moved, her fingers shaking a bit as she held his soft cock before she moved down to kiss it, slowly stroking to bring him erect. He laid back, his hand still lingering on her body as he massaged her skin and she panted as she worked his shaft, realizing she was tasting herself on him and how terribly filthy it was in her doing so.

Not that he cared. She knew he probably wanted her to lick him for that reason and she flushed as she did, feeling his cock against her lips. It was warm and she nuzzled it briefly, her fingers gently massaging the barely erect dick and she gave him a few strokes, watching him respond. He pushed her head down a bit indicating she should take him into her mouth and she did so obediently, lovingly sucking the crown of his cock. “I’ll admit, she could suck cock better than you. Fuck better too but she was a Dunmer. They all do. She wasn’t as obedient though.”

She pulled off and looked back to him, flushing at why he was bringing her up. “Siddgeir…”

“Keep sucking,” he ordered and she did, not in the mood to defy him. “It was a compliment, Kjersti. Though if you keep defying me, I’ll really teach you how to obey.”

She said nothing but moved on him quicker, making sure she could get him slick. She reached down and massaged his sack, licking him almost innocently as she did when he growled above, shifting in discomfort making her smile. She took care in teasing him, nipping gently at around the head when he dragged his nails over her skin making her shiver.

“Anara,” he said and she stopped. “Her name was Anara… that stupid Dunmer. Like I that ridiculous book.”

“Book?” she asked, turning and he leaned up, pushing her back down and she sighed but swallowed his cock, moving her head up and down causing him to tense. The more he was mentioning her when she was pleasuring him was starting to annoy her even though she brought the subject up. She gave him a long lick to show how she cared for him.

“Yeah. Stupid book… it’s in the Solitude library…” he hissed when she moved her hand in tune with her mouth. “She wouldn’t tell me her real name. Not that I cared.”

She pulled off her lips dragging over his shaft as her hand came up and she rubbed his slit making him tense. He grabbed her hair, tugging for a moment making her whimper before he let her do as she pleased and she leaned up, stroking him hard watching as she did. He gripped her hair, taking her hand for a moment to adjust it to his liking before he stiffened. She could feel him tense, his muscles on end and she knew he was close. She continued as if she didn’t know and smiled at the growl caught in his throat.

She was pushed down and she took him into her mouth, knowing what he wanted. It was easy swallowing as he came, the bitter come sliding down her throat and she pulled off with a slight pant, flushing as she did. She took a moment to fully consume his seed, his taste in her throat and he grabbed her, angling her head as he went to kiss her. She whimpered as he did, his touch rough but she melted into it when he pulled her onto his lap.

Her fingers dragged down his chest whining as he grabbed at her and he tilted her head. “Open your mouth,” he said and she obeyed, He growled in desire when she presented his tongue, his semen all swallowed and he took to roughly kissing her again and she moved her hips, starting to ache for him.

“Siddgeir,” she begged as her head swam a bit in dizziness and he nipped at her jaw. “Please…”

“Give me time, idiot,” he muttered and she squirmed in impatience. “You’re worse than Anara was. She at least pleased herself when I was tired.”

She flushed at his words. “I don’t like doing it.” She really didn’t. Her fingers never felt good.

“I know,” he said as his tongue dragged up her jaw to her ear and she shivered, pulsing against him though she knew he couldn’t feel it. “She was also confident and knew herself. She taught me that girls can come with a simple touch. You, however, barely can find anything in yourself.”

She cut him off. “B-Because it’s… it’s better when you do it! You feel good! I don’t like touching myself!”

He tossed her down making her yelp and he was against her, his hand moving over her chest making her stiffen. “She also let me fondle her tits.”

“T-They hurt!” she complained. They really did. She didn’t like him touching her breasts because she knew he disapproved and her nipples hurt when they were touched turning her off. He squeezed and she tensed. “M-My Jarl! S-Stop!”

He growled but his hand drew back and he grabbed her waist, pulling her towards him, his knee forcing her legs apart causing her to whine. She crossed her arms over her chest, not bothering to close her legs but he still looked annoyed.

“You’re an idiot.”

She bit her lip. “I’m s-sorry…” she looked away, his gaze making her uncomfortable and she reached up to hold her burning cheeks, her cold hands feeling better against them. She found herself staring at her bookshelves, a bit of jealousy in her and she sighed. “I’m sorry I-I asked about her. F-Forget I said anything.”

He scowled. “I’m just telling you. This is what you get for being jealous over someone you don’t even know,” he pointed out making her fidget in shame. “We fucked. We fucked for six months, Kjersti. She taught me what to do, in her own irritating way. And yeah, maybe there was a point where I cared about her but she’s gone. She’s been gone a long time and I’m over it and you’re in front of me.”

She looked to him in shock, her heart beating at his words once they sunk in and he growled making her shrink a bit. “You’re mine, you idiot. I took you first and I intend to be the only one who pounds your thin, annoying body.” She turned a bright red. “So get over it.”

“You…” she swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers fidgeting. “I-I’m… yours?”

“What did I just say!?”

She said nothing, merely looking to him, waiting and he rolled his eyes and slapped her legs, moving them further apart before his hand went down. She stiffened at his touch, his two fingers sliding between her folds but it took her no time to relax and thrust against them, her head falling back. He brought his other hand down, his thumb moving over her clit while he continued to work her and she clutched the blankets below, choking on a cry.

He slipped his fingers down, still teasing her clit as he pushed in and she tensed for a moment, his fingers a bit cool but they warmed up when he started thrusting them into her causing her legs to shake. He moved slow at first, teasing her, his thumb stroking above her clit as well making her beg before he moved faster, his eyes narrowing as he did. She rolled her hips up, gasping, her body tensing as he pushed a third finger in and she rode him shamelessly, biting the blanket below as she did.

This was why she could never do it herself. She loved his fingers inside her, him pleasuring her. The thought alone on how he was taking his time to finger her nearly brought her to the edge but she restrained herself and took to sucking on the part of the blanket in her mouth, riding him.

He merely focused on what he was doing, his stroking purposely done to bring her to the point where she needed to come but not to release, building her up only to let her fall and repeat, turning her into a twisting, panting mess by the third time. She finally began to lose it, her fists pulling the sheets below.

“S-Siddgeir! Siddgeir, please! M-My Jarl! I-I can’t bear it!”

He smirked. “Learn to,” he said sarcastically and he switched hands, his right a bit sloppier over her clit making her yell and his left fingers not giving her any relief. She finally reached down, grabbing at his wrist to try and make him push more in, whimpering as she did and he resisted, grinning as he did. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“C-Come! Please, S-Siddgeir! Let me come!”

“Why?”

“I-I need it! I need you! I need your fingers in me! Please!” she cried, almost crying. “I-I can’t-! I’ll… I’ll die!”

“Don’t be stupid,” he snorted but he increased his strokes, rubbing her directly making her nearly scream. She twisted, moving to get away but he held her back, forcing her to take it when she arched, her orgasm almost coming. He was just a few strokes away from giving her utter bliss.

“S-Siddgeir!”

He pulled away and she screamed in frustration, moving to pull him back when his cock hit her making her yelp. He pinned her down, rubbing himself against her and she bit her lip, pulling the blankets underneath her body desperately and he leaned over.

“Stop squirming so much,” he hissed and she whimpered.

“G-Gods, Siddgeir!” she begged as he rubbed her clit again, his slick cock making her become wilder with desire. “I-I need you!”

“Yeah, I know,” he growled but he continued to tease her until he couldn’t take it much longer as he stopped to align himself to sink in. She groaned as he did, watching him disappear into her body, his cock fitting perfectly and she moaned the further he slid into herself, happy to have him in her again. He pulsed, so warm inside her and she fell back, moaning to the gods in thanks. She was rather lucky that to have him.

He grabbed her without warning making her yelp and she was pulled into his arms, awkwardly made to sit in his lap as he struggled to hold her, the new position making her fidget. She was close to him, even closer than if was on top of her and she was pinned against the bed and it made her shake.

“W-What?” he said and she chewed her lip.

“Fuck me, my Jarl,” she said softly, her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingers shaking. “P-Please.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered but he began to move, slow at first as they had to adjust, her legs moving to grip his waist fast while he steadied her body and held her to him. It was awkward with her chest tight and the position soon making her legs ache but when he started to get a rhythm, fucking her rather slow she melted into it.

It didn’t take them long to move from gentle experimentation to rough fucking and she gasped every time she went down, riding his cock hard. He panted slightly, his nails digging into her skin and she held him tight until he slapped her backside.

“Look at me,” he hissed and she whined, gritting her teeth but she obeyed, her body squirming as she did from the awkward position. He was staring at her, his cheeks red and she bit her lip as she felt the tension between them, his thrusts slowing a bit. He grabbed the back of her head, forcing her forehead to meet his and he exhaled. “You’re mine, Kjersti. Only mine, understand?!”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“No one else is allowed to have you,” he growled and she cried out when he roughly thrust up causing her to arch her back and grip his shoulders harder. “No one!”

“I’m yours!” she gasped, her head swimming with his words. “I’m yours, my Jarl, yours, yours… yours-!”

He kissed her, his tongue moving into her mouth and she thrust back against him harder in response. He gripped her tight, his fingers leaving marks on her back and he switched them so she hit the bed allowing him to loom above and he let go of her to snatch her arms and move them above her head, pounding her hard making her cry out, her toes curling. It was rough, almost degrading but she loved it and she arched for him, showing off her figure, what he caused her to feel and he nearly purred.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged, calling his name endlessly as she let him take her. He said nothing, keeping his voice down as his hips moved, his nails digging into her wrists and she wrapped her legs around his waist, eager for him.

It didn’t take long for her to begin to squirm, his thrusts just right against her and she panted hard, whimpering for him as he drove into her. Her back arched and she tried to pull her hands from his grip but he wouldn’t let her leaving her helpless below, unable to feel him against her body as she started to lose it.

Only when he was reaching his limit did he let go and she threw her arms around his neck, crying his name up to the ceiling, clenching around him as she rode his body. He felt so good against her, like he was made to fit her and she coated his neck in hot kisses, her lust driving her wild. She wanted him to never stop, to fuck her until the gods pulled them apart, until she couldn’t breathe or they both couldn’t move from exhaustion. He gripped her back in return, his teeth sinking into her collar when she arched again in utter ecstasy and she let out a loud, shameful moan when she came, her nails dragging down his back leaving marks.

Gods above… she loved him.

He thrust into her almost painfully, his release hot and fast and he tilted her chin so he could kiss her, dominating her after as he slowed his thrusts causing her to fall down against her bed submissively, her thighs still shaking and her mind a puddle of sap in her head.

He licked his lips after he pulled away, his emerald eyes looking her over and she panted, opening her mouth as he slipped his fingers in, her body exhausted and her eyes wanting to close. “Stupid fucking elf.”

She sucked on his fingers gently, her tongue running over the tips and he leaned back down, harshly kissing her until she nearly passed out. She could feel his seed dripping down her body, her muscles aching and her mind spent and she whimpered as he pulled out, the excess spilling from her body. “M-My Jarl… It’s… still early…”

“Are you insane?” he growled as he fell back down beside her, rubbing his temples. “I’m tired, you greedy brat!”

She continued to lay on her back, panting but she still ached for him and she turned onto her side, flushing.

“Once… more?”

He glared at her but rolled his eyes after a while. “Elves. Fucking useless.” She flushed but he grabbed at her, pulling her to his body and she buried herself against him once more, kissing his chest despite her mind begging for sleep. All she wanted was his taste in her mouth again and she stole a few kisses until he made her stop. “You need to learn how to get yourself off.”

She flushed. “I don’t like it… I like…”

“Me doing it, yes, I know. Idiot.”

She went quiet but she was still unsettled. She took to kissing his neck making him grunt, her lips gliding over his jaw before she moved up and smoothed his hair back, licking behind his ear. He shifted, his left hand coming to grab her backside, slapping it making her jerk before he kneaded the tender flesh and he forced her to look at him.

“Why are you so damn hungry for me tonight?”

She pursed her lips for a second. Yes, the reason she brought him to her Manor, on why she needed him that little thought in the back of her mind. She opened her mouth, ready to lie but his eyes made her uncomfortable and she sighed, slumping down a bit.

“Nenya told me you were called to Solitude. Y-You were going to be gone…”

“What? When did she say that?”

“A-A few nights ago.”

He scowled at her. “You think I’m going to die along the way or something?”

“N-No,” she said, her heart pounding in fear at his words as that horrid little thought played in her head. “You’re… going to be gone. I-I wanted…”

“What? Say it already!”

She hesitated. “I wanted you as much as possible before you’d be gone. In case this was… you being called there to take on a wife.” He stared at her and she flushed, avoiding his gaze. “N-Nenya told me. You’re going to need heirs soon and it has to be with a Nord wife a-and I just… I didn’t want…”

He reached up and she flinched, not knowing what to expect but he cupped her head gently making her flush. He held her steady for a moment, their eyes locked before he slapped her upside the head and she jerked, immediately grabbing where he hit and he scoffed.

“Even if I take a wife to bear some little brats, what makes you think I’d stop fucking you?” he asked and she looked at him in shock. She wasn’t expecting that. “The noblewomen of Solitude don’t spread their legs often, stupid. And wives are… annoying. Bad enough I’d have to go through some degrading ceremony just to ensure the throne stays mine…”

She frowned at him. “Weddings are a blessing. Lady Mara…”

He silenced her with his hand moving over her mouth making her fidget. “Shut up. Don’t fucking bring up Mara, for the god’s sakes. Honestly, you idiot! This is politics, not some garbage romance you hear spouting from that bitch at the Inn!” he snapped and she frowned at him from behind his palm. “Look. I’m going to Solitude to see her Majesty, the Queen of milk-drinking fools. I’m not having brats yet so don’t be so fucking stupid.” Her shoulders fell a bit at his words in slight relief but she still was troubled and he scowled at her. “And even if I was, what would a night of you being an insatiable harlot do? Change my mind to have some quarter-breeds?”

She reached up and pulled his hand back a bit, her lip trembling as she had to say it. “So… you wouldn’t forget…”

“What?” She frowned and fell silent and he stared at her for a minute before he sighed making her fidget even more. “Just say it!”

“I love you. T-That I… I love you,” she blurted out, her heart pounding hard in her chest when she did and he gave her a look which made her heart beat faster, the feeling painful and he reached up and pulled her down, their foreheads meeting once again.

“You’re mine, girl. Body and all. Even if I married, I would still pound your body into your bed and make you scream until I’m old,” he said and she turned a bright red at his crass words. “You trying to make me think you’re the best choice is stupid. And I don’t like being manipulated.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she said and he rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re not.”

“I-I am,” she protested. “I didn’t want you t-to think I’m the best. Just… just to know… I… I want to satisfy you. I can. I will. I want to be yours…”

“I know,” he said and she went quiet. “Look, no matter what annoying woman I take in Solitude for a couple of brats or my past lays which were better than you, I know what you do for me, stupid. So stop being jealous. It’s annoying.”

She sighed but nodded knowing it was stupid of her to go on. Though his words were making her heart flutter and her head light.

“Good. Now get back down on my cock. I’m not done with you.”

She flushed but went down eagerly, trying to please him once more. He took the lead, forcing her on her knees when he was ready, his grip bruising on her hips entering but he held her tight once they began, his hand lacing with hers as he fucked her making her cry out his name louder, her cheeks red.

When he was finally finished, he held her tight against him, his chest against her back and his arms around her possessively which made her blush. She took his hands into hers, squeezing them tight which made him grunt and she turned slightly.

“My Jarl?”

“What.”

She turned red. “I love you.”

He shifted. “Keep saying that and I’ll drown you in that stupid lake,” he growled. “Then throw your dead body off a cliff.”

She found herself smiling and she closed her eyes.


	55. Perfect Storm (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Tell me anons about the mothers of skyrim. Either current ones like Grosta or past ones. Like what would Ulfric's mother have been like? Or Elisif's?

“Runil,” she asked one day as he was serving her tea, the rain outside preventing anyone in town from working as the roads had turned to mud and the visiting dignitaries caused her to be turned away from the court. “Did you know Siddgeir’s mother?”

The old priest stopped, his grey eyes focusing on her and she bit her lip in embarrassment at her question. He set the teapot down and took the seat next to her.

“The Jarl’s mother? Well, that’s someone I haven’t thought of in a long time,” he commented. “A very long time indeed.”

“D-Did you know her?” the Thane of Falkreath asked again, her cheeks red as she inquired and Runil frowned at her as he thought. Truthfully? No. 

“Not personally, no. Why do you ask?”

She merely continued to flush and he stared at her for a while before he sighed and folded his hands gently on the table. He could only suspect on why she was asking and knowing his suspicions he was probably right with his observation. “Siddgeir won’t tell you about her, will he?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Yes, I suppose he wouldn’t. The Jarl is very stubborn on the subject of his family.”

“…But… can you?” she asked making him look to her again. “Can you tell me about her? About why no one in town speaks of her and why his father won’t even say her name?”

He frowned before he picked up his cup, the honeycomb and bark floating in the hot water filling his senses and he took a sip, cringing a bit at how wooden it tasted. He added more honey, still thinking on her question and he found himself asking her a question.

“Kjersti, how well do you know his family? Of Siddgeir’s uncle and his father?”

She tilted her head a bit. “I’m… acquainted with them,” she said carefully and he chuckled.

“Do you know their history? Of when Dengeir was Jarl when he was young? How his younger brother Thadgeir was his housecarl and when our dear young Nenya was his new Steward?” he said and she relaxed a bit.

“Nenya mentioned it once, in passing. But she didn’t bring it up again. She said it wasn’t anything to talk about,” she said and he nodded. Just like Nenya. Always looking forward, the sweet dear.

“But you do know Siddgeir’s father was housecarl for a great number of years?” she nodded and he smiled before taking another drink of his tea, indicating she should as well before it got cold. “I suppose that would be a good place to start. When Dengeir and Thadgeir were young, before I ever came. And when their father, Valgeir was on the throne.”

She picked up her tea and began to drink making him smile in appreciation. “You see, Valgeir had his two sons by his late wife and he was failing in health the older his sons got making him act quickly to put one on the throne. He appointed his eldest, Dengeir, to take the throne once he could no longer maintain it and asked that he make sure he kept watch over his brother as he did. Thadgeir, though a bit rather cranky now, used to be known as the more sensitive one between the two and Valgeir always worried about him getting caught up in something. Fortunately, Dengeir honored his father’s wishes and appointed his brother to be the housecarl under him. This was before the time of the war… though there were tensions, Falkreath was not targeted and left alone so the Hold could just thrive.”

She placed down her cup. “Did Dengeir not like his brother?” she asked making him pause. “You said he honored his wishes… as if he didn’t want to.”

Runil chuckled, realizing how it came out. “No, no. They like each other just fine but you are aware of Nord culture. Even brothers do not show any affection towards each other unless it is in a fist-fight. Dengeir did have someone else in mind at the time, a young man… Dear me, what was his name? But he was Bolund and Salof’s father. With his own father’s request, Thadgeir took that place and it worked out for the better in the long run. Falkreath needed a mill. Still does, but… well…”

She sighed. “Yes. I know.”

He moved on, not wanting to discuss the politics of why the current mill was barely running, the subject still sore with the people. 

“Anyways, this was the arrangement and it worked out for a while until a pretty young lass came to Falkreath one day. She had set out from Cyrodiil wanting to be an alchemist and, from what I recall, she got lost and ended up in Skyrim! No one could really believe it at the time as a simple map was easy to buy but she claimed to have no direction!” he chuckled, remembering how Thadgeir used to tell the tale. “She was rather extravagant, this woman, as she showed up in expensive robes and coin but after she was given a map and she had found the countryside teeming with ingredients, she decided to stay.”

“Was this Siddgeir’s mother?” she asked and Runil found himself frowning.

“Let me tell the story, child!”

“S-Sorry,” she said but she was smiling and he sighed. He should have built the story up better for it to be a shock but then again, this was why she was here. He continued anyways. 

“Her name was Senya. And she was, my dear, beautiful. Even for a Nord. She had very expensive tastes but she was modest and kind. She wasn’t like the nobles you know from Solitude who look down their noses at people with less than them. She was happy being with all types of people, a very worldly view. And of course, she caught Dengeir’s eye.”

Her raised eyebrows made him nod. “Yes, Dengeir fell in love with Senya very fast once he saw her on the streets. He would sometimes leave the Longhouse just to ‘accidentally’ stroll into her so he could strike up a conversation.”

“But, Dengeir is Siddgeir’s uncle,” she said. “She didn’t like him back?”

“Well, from what I understand, she liked Dengeir. She always thought he was kind… but she fell for Thadgeir and his sweet side. She became very fond of him before the war broke out and one night, the two disappeared! Dengeir was nearly delirious with fright and he sent out legions of men, thinking vampires or bandits had taken them! But they returned, a fortnight later. They had gone to Riften and had gotten married.”

Kjersti smiled as she took another drink of her tea. “That’s rather… romantic. I wouldn’t think that possible of that family.”

“Oh no, no one ever would. But when young couples are madly in love, they sometimes do mad things for it,” he said and her face felt a bit, her cheeks turning red and he found himself frowning. He realized her embarrassment and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I-I’m sure our young Jarl loves you very much, my dear, despite his attitude.”

She merely drank her tea, her cheeks becoming worse and he found himself flushing in embarrassment for saying such a thing. He decided to move on and tell her what she wanted to know. 

“R-Regardless, the two had become married and Dengeir was rather… cold for a while. But it didn’t last long. The war came to the world and Thadgeir took the call to go, leaving his wife behind. Bolund and Salof’s father took up the mantle of housecarl but when lumber was in desperate need, he had to abandon it and Dengeir stood for himself. During this time, dear Senya was pregnant and Dengeir sent her to Whiterun to the temple in case Falkreath was attacked. The walls would at least save her there while Falkreath had none.”

That made her perk up. “Siddgeir was born in Whiterun?”

He nodded. “Yes. He grew up a bit there too until Thadgeir came home and they were called back. When I came here to Falkreath he was about three winters old and rather… like he is today, even then. He did love his mother the most, though. He always was around her. Possibly from spending so much time without his father. And he looked very much like her too with how dark his hair was. She always had such beautiful, long dark hair and he seemed to have gotten that from her.”

A small smile came upon the young Thane’s lips and she drank quietly, staring at the table. “What color was Thadgeir’s hair?”

He smiled. “Thadgeir and Dengeir both had brown hair. Dengeir’s was almost red but he didn’t like you saying that. He always called his hair ‘rustic’ for some reason that I never understood. Nords are very odd with their vanity,” he chuckled and she did as well. “But yes, dear me. Our young Jarl was very close to his mother.” He began to think about it and slowly he sighed. “I suppose that might be why Dengeir is rather hostile to him, other than all the other… scandals and such between them. Siddgeir did very much appear like Senya. His personality wasn’t but certain things he did was very much like her. I suppose deep down, Dengeir only saw him as the child he should have had with her.”

“Did he ever say that?” she asked and he turned to her. “Dengeir?”

“No. But sometimes you can tell it in someone’s eyes. There’s a longing in them,” he mused and she frowned.

“What about his father? Thadgeir?” she said. “You speak often on how much Dengeir loved her but not much on his own father.”

Runil sighed and he took a sip of his tea to soothe his throat. “Thadgeir always loved Senya. But after being in a war like… that. He loved her but he had become distant and more like the Thadgeir you know today. Such things change a man, and not always for the better.”

Her eyes drew down and for a moment they were silent, the sound of the rain on the straw roof the only noise between them and she spoke. “I hope I never see a war in my time. Or our Jarl’s.”

“I pray for that every day, my dear,” he said softly as he recalled the soldiers who dropped at his hands, their screams and his brother beside him dying in fire and swords. “War is such a terrible thing.”

They lapsed into another small silence, his mind weary as he recalled the war and she stood up making him alert. She went to pour some water in the kettle, heating it on the fire before she came back and they sat together again, his tea getting a bit cold making him heat up the cup with a small bit of magic.

“So, what happened to her? To Siddgeir’s mother? Where did she go?” she asked and he looked to her. Her eyes were still curious, though sad, and he sighed as he drank his tea.

“Our young Jarl would have been nearly in his tenth winter,” he said softly. “He was growing a bit more every year and he was soon getting away from his mother, as young boys do. He would go exploring around the town, scaring folks and being a general pest.” She smiled at his words. “So, Senya returned to doing as she did before. While Thadgeir continued to be the housecarl, she went and got ingredients to make potions for the town.”

He set down his cup, recalling it as if it was yesterday. “Then one day, she never came back.”

“What happened?”

He pursed his lips. “No one knows. She went to the lake, just for a day and she never came back.” Kjersti said nothing but after a moment she spoke, her voice a bit hoarse. She muttered something making him frown and he leaned over. “What was that, my dear?”

“I said… that… explains why he hates the lake so much,” she said in a soft voice. “Siddgeir… hates that lake.”

He found himself frowning as he recalled the young Jarl being so frantic at the commotion around them. “Yes. He dearly loved his mother. Thadgeir went looking, for days at a time leaving the boy alone with Nenya but nothing was found. Dengeir sent out soldiers, a reward was posted for information but nothing ever came. It still hasn’t… not after nearly eighteen years.”

“Does anyone know what could have happened?” she asked. “She didn’t… leave, did she?”

He sighed and leaned back, folding his arms. “People have said that. They said she left. That she secretly hated her life her, despised settling down with peasants and having a child. Such things shouldn’t have been said but this town holds on to gossip dearly. I know the young Jarl was very angry at some accusations like that but he never got much of a chance to react. After his mother disappeared, Thadgeir had to take to raising him and he left being a housecarl to do so. He taught him to hunt, to track, and the traditional use of weapons but Siddgeir never attached himself to his father like he had his mother.”

“Yes. I see that when he speaks to him. There’s no bond,” she commented and he nodded. “He has more of a bond with Nenya, and those two fight like anything sometimes.”

Runil smiled a bit. “Well, Nenya did take on the role of being a mother with him which he never really enjoyed. I do recall once her chasing him when he was supposed to retire for the night and he led her into the woods, came back, and locked the door. I don’t think she’s ever really forgotten that.”

She placed a hand against her mouth, a smile wide on her lips and he chuckled at the thought before the bubbling of the kettle drew his gaze up. She went and fetched it, pouring more water into his cup as well as her own and they settled down again, the air between them light.

The sounds of rain on the roof was dying a bit and she looked up, listening intently before she moved to the door and opened it. Slowly the dark clouds were moving on and she returned to her seat, drinking her tea before she sighed, in thought. “Thank you, Runil. For telling me.”

“Of course, my dear,” he said in a gentle voice. “I only wish he would tell you himself. I do not believe his mother just ran away. Many things lurk in these forests and I fear more that something or someone got her rather than her leaving behind the husband and child she loved so dearly.”

She nodded as she stood again, finishing off her tea. “I doubt he will. No child really enjoys speaking about their parents much,” she said making him look to her. For a moment he could see her as she had come to him with her mother a year before. Her thin, starved frame, her eyes full of tears and her mother whispering curses against her for bringing her from their shack. He stood and went to her side, taking her hands into his.

“My dear…” he began but she shook her head stopping him.

“It’s alright, Runil. Really. I feel worse for my Jarl as I at least had my mother through my childhood and he was robbed of his,” she said. “Although, Nenya might protest that as she seems to be his mother more than anything now.”

He smiled, rubbing her hands but she pulled away, going to the door to check and the rain had stopped, the distinct smell in the air. “I must get back to the court. By now, the company should have left. Take care, Runil. I’ll try and come back to help Kust when I can. I know this weather is making it difficult for him to keep the mud out of the fresh graves.”

“Thank you my dear,” he said and he bid her off, watching her leave back up the path, her footsteps left in the mud. He sighed and went back inside, moving to sit again and drink his tea as he thought on Senya and her disappearance. He closed his eyes and he could still hear Thadgeir’s yelling, his voice nearly hoarse as he had shouted in the Inn.

_“It was mages! From the college! Their robes were blue! They took her away, and none of you will believe me! But they stole her away! Mark my words, I will find them and prove it! …and then you will all believe me that that college at Winterhold is more dangerous than this silly war…”_


	56. Psynapse (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: As much as I'm a huge fan of smut, the things that usually kill me the most is adorable fluff. Like rot-your-teeth cute fluff with a character. Doesn't have to be with their love interest although anything cute between couples does knock me dead.

She dipped the cloth into the bowl of water again, wringing it out slightly as she heard the pine beetles outside chirping and she went back to her Jarl, handing it to him. He groaned and grabbed it, dropping the cool rag over his eyes as he breathed out again, his light tunic sticking to his chest. She merely sighed in agreement and grabbed a cloth for herself to wipe her brow, her mage robes having been changed with loosely woven linens to try and help her combat the heat.

It was the fourth day of an unbearable heat wave that had struck Falkreath and her Jarl had given up trying to maintain his seat on the throne, taking to laying in his room instead while his court was temporarily dismissed. She was allowed to join him as she had no use sitting at an empty throne and she fell onto the bed beside him, the woven blankets scratching her skin making her groan.

Nenya came in for a moment, her robes having been changed with clothes that almost resembled a tavern girl and she stared at them both. “Siddgeir, word has come from Markarth. They need some lumber.”

“So what?” he groaned, not moving from his position and his steward momentarily wiped her brow, her neck beading with sweat as she stared at him. His young Thane did as well from her place as she waited for the inevitable fight to begin.

“Will you get Bolund to cut some logs?”

He snorted and slowly lifted the cloth up, his green eyes tired as water dripped from his temples. “You go tell him. I’m not going outside.”

“He won’t listen to anyone but you,” she reminded him and he rolled his eyes and fell back, the cloth over his face once again. “Siddgeir, we need the money.”

“I’m busy.”

“Siddgeir!”

“My Jarl,” Kjersti spoke up from beside him and he lifted his cloth to glare at her making her flush. “P-Please. There haven’t been any bandits moving into the Hold recently. W-We could use the money.”

His eyes narrowed even more making her fidget and he leaned up, pulling the cloth from his face. He looked between the two, his irritation obvious before he moved and grabbed a robe to sling over his shoulders. “You fucking elves,” he spat as he picked up his crown and set it back upon his head. “I don’t even know why I listen to any of you.”

Nenya’s shoulders slumped and she looked to Kjersti grateful who gave her the same look back. She turned to him, stepping back as he went to the door. “You listen because you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he said as he shoved past her, leaving his Thane alone and Nenya sighed as she followed him out. The younger Altmer pursed her lips as she was left alone and went back to laying down, the blankets below still bothering her but the sounds of the insects outside combined with her exhaustion from the heat took over and she fell into a dreamless sleep on his bed while she waited for him to return.

When he did she only woke for a minute, moving as he ripped off his robes, sweat on his forehead and neck and he fell down beside her with a growl, his skin hot to the touch. She got up and fetched his cloth, handing it to him which he took with an angry expression but he didn’t speak about it and she was allowed to lay beside him once more.

She slept a bit lighter with him beside her, her head filling with an odd dream about chasing stags when he elbowed her making her wake. He dropped the cloth on her neck making her squeak and he glared at her.

“It’s warm,” he said and she slowly got up, dipping the cloth into the slightly cool water and he watched her from his bedside, his eyes on her backside making her flush. When she returned he grabbed the hem and lifted it up making her flush before he let go and fell back against the bed. “What have I told you about wearing underwear?”

She felt her ears grow hot. “I-I can’t w-walk around the court w-without them, my Jarl.”

“Yes, you can,” he snorted. “It’s easy. Take them off.” She stared at him and he began to glare at her, snapping his fingers making her flinch and she gripped his cloth for a moment before giving it to him and slowly taking off her undergarments with shaking hands. She balled them up in her palm, fidgeting in embarrassment and he seemed to smile before he patted the space beside him and she took care on crawling onto his bed. 

Her linen robe rode up making her flush and she grabbed it to push the fabric down between her legs in case someone came so she wouldn’t expose herself but he grabbed the hem and pulled it away making her whimper.

“Stop being modest,” he said as he dropped the cloth on his forehead. “No one cares.”

“I-I care.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit if you do,” he said making her sigh. “Come here.” He grabbed her and she was pulled closer to him making her nearly squawk like a crow, his body several degrees hotter than hers and she found herself pressed against him as he laid back, the cloth being moved to cover his eyes again. She bit her lip, the discomfort making her almost fidget but she restrained herself and leaned into him instead, trying to savor his touch which he seemed to seldom let her have.

He was considerably warmer than her but as he relaxed – making her do so as well – his temperature seemed to go down to match hers and they both laid quiet in his room, the stuffiness and unbearable heat making her drowsy again. She nodded off against him, the beating of his heart lulling her into a sleep and she shifted for a moment so her leg tucked over his making him grunt. 

He took her arm, pulling it across his chest before he laid back and they were still once more making her blush, her own heartbeat quickening in her chest. Every breath he took she could feel, his pulse matching her own and she leaned into his touch when his hand went into her hair, tangling the black strands.

“Tomorrow I’m going up to the manor,” he muttered making her look up. “I can’t stand this shit any longer.”

She frowned a bit but remained against him, her eyes slowly closing. “It’s not any cooler up there, my Jarl.”

“You have a cellar, you idiot,” he said making her flush a bit. “If your damn forge is doused then it’ll be cool down there.

“The cellar is hardly a place for a Jarl to be,” she said quietly without thinking as she started to nod off and he scoffed a bit at her remark.

“What do you propose then, Thane? I take to the damn mountain peaks?”

“No…” she said in a drowsy voice, his breathing calming her and she began to dream again, his touch against her making her fairy tale thoughts more real. “There’s the lake…”

“I’m not fucking going near that,” he growled but she didn’t clue in. He harshly nudged her breaking her from her want to sleep and she looked up to him, exhausted and he stared at her for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “Idiot.”

“Sorry,” she fell back against him and he drew her closer as he pulled the cloth down more, the excess water dripping down to his neck. “Siddgeir…”

“What?” When she didn’t speak he slapped the side of her head making her become alert again. “What, you idiot!?”

She stared at him, weary and he furrowed his brows, his nails digging into her skull but before she could whimper or complain he pulled her forward and he kissed her, his hot mouth against hers making her shiver and he nipped at her bottom lip. “I don’t know why I let you share my bed.”

She flushed and licked her drying lips. “I’m sorry,” she said and he scoffed.

“No, you’re not,” he muttered before he was on her again and she was pulled onto him, his free hand moving to cup her bare ass making her whine before he turned them and she was pushed to the bed. Her hair was pushed back out of her face making her pant and she spread her legs as he settled between them. “We’re going to the damn manor tomorrow and I’m doing as I please.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she breathed out, her mind still wanting to sleep as she gripped his arms, her body temperature rising slightly as she felt him against her. “Whatever you want.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he muttered and she was kissed again, his hand moving over her body making her arch. He cupped her head, angling her so she fit against him better and she lay submissively below him, her thoughts swimming from the heat and exhaustion. He continued for a few minutes, grinding against her for good measure which made her groan before he moved to be back on his side, her body being swept against him and she clung to him, her robes riding up.

“M-My Jarl,” she whined and he kissed her ear.

“We’ll continue this tomorrow,” he said making her flush and press her thighs together as she felt herself nearly pulse in anticipation. “Right now, I’m tired and you’re barely conscious.”

“B-But,” she said and he silenced her by slapping her backside leaving a mark and her yelping.

“I said tomorrow. I’ll damn well fuck you senseless then. For now, just… be quiet,” he said and she flushed at his words.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever,” he muttered but he held her to him, his left hand moving back to tangle in her hair and she remained a bit stiff against him until she nudged his leg and was able to once again slide hers over his. They settled, the stuffy heat between them bothering her for a time until she settled again and was able to nod off. Once again her dreams were filled with chasing stags and beetles chirping as the heat continued to press down on the small town.

It was only at night did the blankets get pulled out as the heat vanished and left frost on the windows and trees. She buried herself against her Jarl, her cold feet moving against him making him slap her but he held her back for warmth making her smile.


	57. Avarice (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: could anyone write me something about one person marking other during sex? like, kissing and biting neck, shoulders, ears... i don't know why, but this always does the thing for me. especially if it's not only as part of sex, but with the exact purpose of marking, one person claiming possession over another. don't care, who, don't care for plot.
> 
> Again, I miss that sweet girl and her prompts and comments. *sighs*.

It was hot. That was the only way to describe it. And for the Jarl of Falkreath, who was used to living in utter piss-poor conditions or without the sun for a month, it bothered him. He could survive a mountain crossing without batting an eye, spend weeks on deck of a ship in the Sea of Ghosts but the minute Arkay – for whatever reason – decided to allow an abundance of sun and heat into his hold he collapsed.

He supposed it was his Nordic blood. After all, half the town was absent with the influx of heat, his father and bastard uncle included, and the sight of his Altmer Thane and Steward fluttering about with a bothersome amount of energy, talking excited on the heat annoyed him. He had to sit upon his throne instead of laying down or retreating to Riften or at least near Whiterun while they acted as if it was a blessing.

He damn well hated the heat.

He finally spoke out on the third day. “Thane!” he shouted and she came to his side, her cheeks and eyes bright which put him in a mood. “Fetch me some water.”

She frowned a bit and nodded, going to grab a pitcher but he called her back. “Get back here!”

“My Jarl?”

He glared at her. “What was that look you gave me?”

“W-What look?” she said and he stared at her until she relented, her fingers fidgeting on her dress making his lip twitch. “I-It was nothing. I’m just… worried.”

“Worried?”

“Y-Yes,” she said biting her lip. “My Jarl, you’re not faring well in this weather.”

“Really? What fucking tipped you off?!” he snapped and from above the hall, his irritating steward came, looking down.

“Siddgeir! Don’t shout!” she said and he gave her a furious look. There she went again, playing ‘mother’ on him. “Honestly! Can you try and use some manners?”

“Nenya, go fuck yourself!” he snapped, his head starting to bother him and he slumped back in his chair. He felt a bit light and he rubbed his eyes, groaning quietly. This was bullshit. “Thane, just go get me some damn water.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said obediently and she was gone leaving him still in his chair. The heat was affecting him badly, making him more irritated than he realized, his head aching and his patience was starting to dwindle. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the dull pulse of a headache; there was sweat on his neck and his hands were hot and he found himself slumping down further in his seat.

It didn’t help. He could hear the smallfolk outside, that redguard and his wife at their farm, the sounds of dogs barking and that infernal forge being stoked and he was twitching by the time his Thane came back. He opened his eyes, watching her walk in with the water and for a second she stumbled, nearly dropping the pitcher of water making him tense.

She caught it, letting out a sigh, smiling to herself as if she just won a tournament and he was up in utter irritation. 

“You!” he snapped like a dog making her drop the pitcher completely and yelp.

“M-My Jarl!” she shook and he grabbed her, his irritation at its limits as he dragged her into his room, kicking the door shut making Nenya yell from outside not to do that. He didn’t care. He was sweating, angry, and his damn Thane was pissing him off the most and he tossed her on his bed making her yelp even louder.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried, frightened as he grabbed her and he ignored her. His blood was practically boiling and he ripped her boots off making her stiffen before he was tearing at her robes. He hated them anyways. How much they covered her body, how they hung down so loose, their color, their texture. He tossed it off, staring down at her almost like a beast in heat and she shook, her arms crossing her chest.

“M-My Jarl,” she whimpered and he shoved her to the bed.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Just, shut up. Shut up, do you understand me!?” he snapped and she avoided looking at him, her cheeks becoming red. It irritated him even more and he grabbed at her flesh, his fingers sliding down her cool skin and it bothered him even more. It was bloody scorching out. How was she so cold?

He snapped at her neck, his body pressing against hers as he did and she shivered, her cheeks now a bright red and her fingers digging into her chest as she remained her stiff position. He slapped her thigh making her yelp. Gods damn her, she was pissing him off again and he wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was because she wasn’t acting submissive. Or maybe because the heat was making him absolutely insane. 

She was stiff and uninterested and it made him hiss and force her legs apart. For now, he was just going to focus on her. Maybe a fuck would calm him down, who knows. He made her look at him, his fingers digging into her jaw and he growled at her. “Kjersti! Look at me!”

She bit her lip but her green eyes looked to him and he could see she was frightened, her lip trembling for a second and it made him hesitate; his anger subsided for a moment, his blood still boiling but his grip lessened and he was dissatisfied again. Slowly she pulled her hands away from her chest and reached up, touching his neck which made him sneer at her. She didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry…” she said softly. “I-I dropped the pitcher.”

He slapped her upside the head making her yelp. “You idiot! I don’t care about that!”

She stared at him, confused. “T-Then why are you angry at me!?”

He scoffed, glaring at her but he honestly had no reason. He was just pissed off from the heat. Everything was making him angry and she seemed to sense his answer and she reached up, her cold hands touching his neck. He growled but she merely rubbed, soothing his muscles, her hands welcome on his skin. He started to relax a bit as she leaned up, her hands moving up into his hair and she scratched his skull making him damn well nearly purr. 

Her fingers came to rest near his temples, feeling how they throbbed and she rubbed to soothe him making his shoulders fall a bit. “You don’t feel well, Siddgeir…”

“I’m not,” he muttered but he refused to lay down, sitting in front of her instead as her cool, soft fingers massaged his temples and calmed him down.

“Does the heat do this to all Nords?”

“How should I know?”

She bit her lip but remained silent, still rubbing but after a moment she stopped. Slowly she moved, slipping off his bed and she went to grab a goblet, filling it with one of the unopened bottles of mead sitting in a box near his table. A gift from Maven for destroying the last bottles of Honningbrew in the town.

He drank, slowly relaxing as she slid behind him and rubbed his shoulders, pulling the furs off to expose his neck. He felt better already when they were off but if he were to go out, he’d have to put them back on. It was undignified and weak to be seen without them,

She touched the back of his neck, her fingers gliding over his shoulders before they stopped and she leaned over, frowning. “My Jarl?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you take the remaining days off? Take the throne again when it’s not so hot?”

He turned to look at her. “It doesn’t work like that, stupid,” he said making her flush in embarrassment. “I can’t just leave my throne whenever I wish. It sends out a wrong message.”

“You used to do it before,” she said and he flushed.

“Yes, well, apparently I can’t anymore,” he said bitterly. Since her royal fucking highness, Elisif decreed it. He wouldn’t have given a shit if she also didn’t send the word to Nenya and Skulnar so he was practically chained to his throne now. The more he remembered the angrier he got and his Thane sensed it, her hands rubbing his shoulders quickly to try and get him to relax but he slapped her hands off. He downed his mead, the hops going straight to his head making him wince and he tossed the goblet down, rubbing his eyes again.

He contemplated going down to find Runil and yelling at the old bastard to make the heat wave stop. He was a priest of Arkay. Surely he had some influence.

He didn’t really expect what happened next but while he was brooding, his damn Thane had pulled his robes down a bit to expose more of the back of his neck and her mouth kissed his skin making him pause. There was a moment of silence, his eyes set forward before she did it again, more timidly which caused him to turn.

“Kjersti.”

She kissed the side of his neck and he paused again. Her lips glided up, moving to just below his ear and she withdrew, her fingers tensing on him.

“S-Sorry.”

He moved to see her, slightly curious. She was blushing, her bottom lip being chewed slightly in guilt and he reached up and lightly smacked her forehead making her whimper.

“Idiot,” he said but he didn’t mean it. She flushed, moving closer and he allowed her to kiss him, her lips warm and slightly salty from his skin but he didn’t care. He moved into it, reaching behind to touch her head, her hair rather smooth despite the heat and he was soon pulling her to face him, his kisses becoming more possessive.

She melted into it, pressing against him which he allowed and he ran a hand down her back, cupping her ass making her arch while her fingers dragged over his chest. He pushed her away for a moment so he could take the damn thing off, gently tossing it near the foot of his bed, his crown being taken with it but when he moved to take off his wool tunic she stopped him.

“Keep something on,” she said flushing. “In case someone comes.”

He scoffed. “I don’t care if anyone sees me. Let them see what a proper Nord looks like.”

Her cheeks tinged pink for a second. “I-I don’t… want anyone else to see you…”

“What?”

She said no more and he glared at her. Whatever she was on about he didn’t care and he went back to taking over her mouth pressing her flush against him. She squirmed, her legs moving so she could sit in his lap and he found himself getting hot again but this time it wasn’t from the heat. She was just so damned eager all the time like an insatiable whore and he was starting to get worked up as she ground her hips down against him.

He pulled at her lip, tilting her head so she couldn’t move away before parting. “Thane.”

She panted. “M-My Jarl…”

He thrust up making her tense, her nails dragging over his chest. “It’s scorching out. And you want a fuck.”

She licked her lips. “The heat makes people do strange things.”

He almost laughed. “Is that so?”

“Yes…” she dipped her head down, kissing his jaw lightly before moving up to tug at his ear. He growled until her fingers went up and she tangled her hands in his hair, her nails scratching – gods, he loved when she did that – and he found himself leaning into her, her giggle making him hiss.

If he wasn’t careful she was going to damn well play him for her pleasure and he snapped back, grabbing her arms and pinning her to the bed which made her yelp. He leaned over her, making sure she understood that he was in charge and she bit her lip, giving him an innocent look. He scoffed. “You always try and fuck during the heat?”

“No,” she said, her eyelids fluttering a bit making him irritated as his cock twitched. “Just remarking about what the heat does.”

“And how do you know?” he said, trailing a finger down her body to feel how she shivered. “You fuck someone every time the heat comes?”

She giggled lightly as if it was ridiculous for him to imply but he didn’t like her response. He grabbed her wrists and slammed them against his bed making her stop. He was about to chew her out when he got a better idea as he looked down at her, how exposed she was.

If she was going to make stupid implications then he was going to have to punish her. And her neck was looking damned enticing. He leaned down, his breath ghosting over her and when she giggled he slapped her. “Shut up.”

She went silent and he moved down. He pushed her chin up, staring at her neck and his fingers pressed against her pulse. He could feel her heart quicken, her lax stance now stiffening and he smiled at her like a sabre cat would at a lone child. She was his.

He leaned down and bit her neck.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried out in shock but he didn’t stop. He made sure that mark was there, that she could feel it and it could be seen. He pulled back, studying it, his teeth marks soon turning red against her skin and he lapped her new wound, soothing her. She merely stared, her chest rising a bit and he turned her head the other direction, biting the other side to make a twin.

She whimpered but he rubbed her waist, leaning up only when he was satisfied. “You belong to me, do you understand!? No one else is ever to fucking have you!”

Her shock slowly melted and she blushed deeply, nodding slightly, completely submissive. It made him twitch, his cock getting hard and he took to sucking on her neck as if he was some stupid teenage boy, leaving a bright red mark that was hard to miss and she turned her head so he could do the other side.

He rewarded her with another mark while his fingers went down and grazed over her undergarments causing her to moan. “Siddgeir…”

“I thought I told you to shut up?” he said and she flushed but it didn’t stop her from whimpering, her legs spreading as his fingers moved over her, feeling her through the fabric. The action alone was getting him worked up as she was sticking to her stupid panties but he held back, biting her neck once again before moving off the bed. He kicked his dresser, grabbing two bottles of lubricant as he wasn’t really up for stupid foreplay and he came back to rip her underwear off, tossing it behind him where it landed to probably never be seen again.

She was wet, her folds as flushed as her cheeks and he poured the thick liquid against her making her pant. She eagerly spread for him, his fingers becoming slick from getting her ready and she whimpered as she looked to him.

“Siddgeir…” she moaned making him look up. “Please…”

“What?”

“Fuck me…” she begged. “F-Fuck me like an animal…”

He stared at her. “You’re getting a real filthy mouth, you know that?”

She pushed herself up, her hand moving to grab him from underneath his tunic making him pause and she kissed the side of his neck, her skin no longer cool but just as hot as his.

“Y-You make me this way…”

He had enough and he pinned her down making her pant harder, her legs spreading wider and he was on her again, his teeth grazing her throat before he sucked, leaving another mark. She squirmed, her back arching, her voice thick with lust and he was up and forcing her over, her stomach hitting his bed. If she wanted to be taken like an animal, he’d oblige. Not that he would ever protest. In fact, with the heat still making him drunk and angry and her body no longer cool to press against, he’d rather fuck her from behind.

He pushed her hair back, tangling a hand in the strands for a moment just to feel them before he shoved her to the bed and moved her hips up a bit so he could take her. She whimpered, her fingers slowly gripping his blanket, her bottom lip being bit innocently as she looked at him over her shoulder and by the gods he nearly lost it. He shoved her back down so he could damn well concentrate.

He mounted her like a hound would to a bitch, his hands coming to grip on either side of her, his mouth against her neck and she arched into him, letting out a silent cry. He thrust in hard, making sure she felt it and she finally made a sound. A soft moan, one that made his skin prickle and he bit her ear causing her to clench.

“Kjersti,” he panted like a fucking dog. What was wrong with him? “Move.”

She tried to look at him from over her shoulder but he wouldn’t let her. He kissed her neck, his mouth moving to her nape as he bit down again making her whimper in discomfort but she did as he asked and she moved against him slowly taking the lead. She controlled the rhythm, her body struggling to remain upright and he moved her so she was against the bed again, her hips slightly raised.

She seemed grateful for it as her forehead hit the blankets and she began to ride him, her moans increasing as she did. He let her, his focus still on her neck and he ran his hands up her body, grabbing her chest which she immediately pried his fingers off of. He growled at her but she didn’t seem to care and he had to wrap his arms around her just below her damned tits. He’d punish her for that later. 

Right now, well. He’d let it slide. He bit her shoulder in slight retaliation which made her cry out but after she let a moan when he licked the bite mark, her ears now red and her thrusting becoming more forceful he stopped being so gentle.

He pulled out and flipped her over, pinning her once again before re-entering which made her squirm. “You stupid… fucking elf!” he panted and she looked up to him, her eyes a mindless haze. “Kjersti!”

“M-My Jarl!” she whined and he was on her, possessively taking her mouth, his fingers digging into her skull as he gripped her hair and he started fucking her – really pounding her damn body – into his bed, his control starting to waver with every moan she let out.

Gods dammit, he didn’t even know why she let him do this to her but he was grateful for it as he bit her neck again, leaving more marks to claim her, every bite a sign of his affection and ownership. She titled her head back, begging him not to stop and he was about to make another when a banging on his door made him slow a bit, his concentration being broken.

“Siddgeir!” he heard Nenya’s voice and pulled at his sheets.

“What?!” he shouted, his anger coming back and he turned to glare at the door, his hips stopping making his damn Thane whimper from below.

“Siddgeir, you’re supposed to be on the throne!”

“I’m fucking busy!” he yelled, his hands fisting the blankets as he could feel his muscles now twitching. He was balls deep into his Thane, he didn’t need this now.

“Siddgeir, you signed a contract!” he could hear his stupid Steward stress as if he should pull out and do as she asked and he let out a growl, ready to fight when hands came around his neck. He turned but not in enough time to feel his Thane bite down on the space between his neck and shoulder causing him to tense, a slight pain filling his body.

He went to slap her but she clenched around him making him stop and hiss, her body becoming flush against his and she let go. Her tongue was lapping the stop quickly to soothe it before she moved back and he stared at her, ready to toss her off the bed when she bit her lip.

“S-So everyone knows,” she said quietly. “You’re mine. J-Just as you marked me.”

He stared at her.

Gods fucking dammit.

This heat wave was making her just as crazy.

“Siddgeir!” Nenya said again but he didn’t fucking care. She could come in and see if she wanted. He was busy. He shoved his damn elf down, her back arching as it hit the bed again and he kissed her. Hard. Enough for toes to curl and her insides to clench around him again and he started pounding her submissive body back into his bed.

“Siddgeir!” she cried out but he silenced her. She was fucking his, his alone, and by the gods he wasn’t going to stop until he was done. Until she was a mess underneath him and the heat stopped making him so insane. He bit her ear, sucking on the tip which made her cry before he was hissing against her.

“Scream my name, girl!” he spat making her thrust against him. “I want them all to fucking hear you!”

“S-Siddgeir!”

“Scream it!” he barked, gripping her wrists tight, his control waning. Fuck it all. His head hurt, his skin was on fire, his balls ached, and he fucking wanted everyone to hear her. That she was screaming for him, wanting him, and that he was getting her off. He looked at his marks on her neck, how her back was arched and her fingers were twisting the blankets beneath them again and he slapped her thigh. “Kjersti!”

She moaned, her breaths coming out short and quick, her back twisting but finally she did as he said. “S-Siddgeir,” she said, whimpering before he angled and her tune changed. “Siddgeir!”

“Louder!”

“SIDDGEIR!” she shouted and he had to grin. That was what he wanted. He gripped her tighter, nipping at her neck making her thrust back desperately. “Siddgeir! Siddgeir! M-My Jarl! I-I’m-! Siddgeir! AH!”

By Zenithar’s mercy, he didn’t care. Well, not in that moment. He needed to just get off, to blow his load, to stop the damn aching and tension and irritation in his body. Her thrashing and howling against him helped, how she groaned his name, how wet and perfect she was around him and he stopped thinking. He let the rather desperate part of him take over, his fingers digging into her hips, his mouth kissing whatever skin he found and it didn’t take long for him to finally get that relief.

She came before, he could feel it when she did, and he chased her orgasm with his own, a strangled hiss coming from his throat, his head pounding and his legs tense. She was so damn hot underneath him, her moans encouraging, her nails raking down his arms and he fucking bucked into her when he released. He came inside, not caring that he did as he continued making her submit before him, her moaning in his ears and her taste in his throat.

She kissed him as he slowed, her lips shaking or maybe it was his own but one of them did and he had to grab her head and tilt it, feeling her against himself before he collapsed. 

Gods. 

He clutched her for a second, feeling her shake against him, her breaths short and small whimpers coming from her throat. He leaned up, moving her hair back, his own sticking to his neck as he panted and she let out a content sigh, her eyes closed.

“M-My Jarl…”

He kissed the side of her jaw. “What?”

She moaned, her eyes still closed, her body shaking again and he frowned. He hit her shoulder making her jerk and she looked to him with a weary expression, her cheeks a deep red and her lips swollen and he licked his own drying lips.

“Idiot.”

“Sorry…”

“No, you’re not…” he muttered but he kissed her regardless. She turned slightly to accommodate him, her fingers reaching up to touch his arms, her body moving to slide off him but he stopped her. “Not yet.”

She flushed but didn’t move. He turned her so he could be comfortable, his hands in her hair and he dominated her slightly, his body cooling a bit before he leaned up and slapped her backside as hard as she could making her yell.

“M-My Jarl!” she cried and he pinned her back down.

“That’s for provoking me,” he snapped. “Implying you have been with someone else!”

She turned a bright red. “I-I would never-! I-I lov-!”

He slapped her thigh again making her clench around him and he hissed but held himself together. “S-Shut up! That was also for pulling me off your tits and biting my neck, you stupid crazy elf! What gives you the right to do such a thing!?”

She bit her lip and reached up to touch her own neck which was covered in his marks, the one near her collarbone the most prominent and he sighed. “It… d-didn’t seem fair for me to be the o-only one with signs on me…” she said. “I-I don’t want anyone near you either.”

“So now you’re possessive of me?” he said and she flushed a deep red. It was actually rather cute in retrospect but he still wouldn’t stand for it. He grabbed her chin and forced it up. “You don’t own me.”

She breathed out. “B-But…” she hesitated. “I-I don’t want any other girl…”

“You’re jealous? Of imaginary girls?” he scoffed and she stared before becoming embarrassed again. She should feel ashamed, she was being stupid but it was still nice to know. It was information he could possibly use in case he had to put her back in line but for now he lightly pinched the tips of her ears making her squirm and clench around him making him nearly groan.

“M-My Jarl!”

“Idiot,” he hissed and he finally pulled out, gritting his teeth as he did. She remained half sprawled out before him, her thighs slowly pressing together and he let her and he took to lying down, feeling the bridge of his nose. His headache hadn’t subsided and he sighed when there was a knocking at the door again.

“What?!” he yelled and he didn’t even have to guess to know who it was.

“Siddgeir, get back on the throne,” he heard Nenya say, her voice curt. He looked to the door, annoyed and his stupid Thane moved to grab her robes, tugging them on in case she came. He merely scoffed.

“Make me.”

“Siddgeir, you’re acting like a child!” her muffled voice came. “Get dressed and get back out here.”

“No!”

“Siddgeir!”

“My Jarl,” Kjersti said making him look to her. She tugged her hood on shrouding her entire body much to his displeasure and she struggled to walk a bit as she came back to his side. “P-Please cooperate with Nenya.”

“Take your hood off,” he said as he looked to her neck. “And I will.”

“W-Why-?”

“Just do it!” he snapped and she hesitated but did so. He could see the marks which made him smile and he finally got back up, fixing himself before he pulled on his robes, the weight of them already making him sweat. He threw his crown on, the metal now a bit cool which was a relief and he roughly pulled the door open making Nenya turn, her cheeks a dark red.

He gave her a rather satisfied smirk before he was forced back to his throne, his body falling down into it causing it to scrape against the floor. His steward said nothing and she turned to look at his Thane who turned a bright red and reached up to cover her neck. She rolled her eyes.

“When are you going to grow up, Siddgeir?” Nenya said and he scowled at her.

“When you die, you miserable hag,” he growled though he didn’t really mean it. Still, his irritation came back and now he was in a mood as he sat on this throne. His Steward just went back to her duties, ignoring him and his Thane who was now fidgeting near his door.

He snapped his fingers and she looked to him. “Get me some fucking water.”

“R-Right,” she said and she was gone, moving out into the Hold. He slumped against his chair, his eyes closing as he could feel the heat back on his body and the sounds of footsteps drew his eyes up. What now.

He was actually surprised when the door of his Longhouse opened and the town merchant Salof was there. He sighed in relief and watched the bumbling Nord enter, his eyes weary and his clothes limp against him indicating he was being affected by the heat. He merely tapped his fingers on his throne as he waited and the Nord came to him, pulling out a bag of coins which he happily took, sitting up to count them.

“There, my Jarl. Taxes for both Bolund and I,” he said in a heavy voice and Siddgeir merely smiled.

“Thank you. Now on your way then,” he dismissed but the damn Nord stood before him and he looked up, getting annoyed. “What!?”

“Uh, nothing,” he said but after a moment he spoke anyways. “Uh, my Jarl? What’s on your neck?”

He said nothing, not knowing what he was talking about until it came back to him. That stupid fucking elf. He turned red and immediately touched where his damn Thane had marked him, his fingers turning white as he gripped his throne and his eyes sharpened as his irritation and anger rose within his body.

“Get out,” he hissed and Salof was gone before he finished his last word.

That damn stupid fucking elf was dead.


	58. The Gold in the Autumn Leaves (F!OC/Jarl Siddgeir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfinished experiment.

It all started in summer, when Siddgeir’s stallion got out. Whether it was the guards or the Jarl himself was up for debate but the fact was his stallion escaped from his pen and went looking for trouble as soon as he did. Few people could tame the beast – only Siddgeir and reportedly one of the Companions could – so when the guards found out they couldn’t bring the horse back. Neither could they prevent him in chasing down the Thane of Falkreath’s rather out of shape mare and corral her off into the woods where her owner went running after in a panic. 

One thing led to another and by the time the Jarl had gotten involved – and rather angrily as everyone observed – his stallion had mated with his Thane’s mare more than once.

It became evident the later it got in the summer as her mare started showing signs of filling out and the poor Thane was blamed. Reports of her crying for the Jarl not to take her horse away varied but there was a general agreement between the townsfolk in Falkreath that she had tugged on his arm and cried while he shouted about the entire thing until finally Nenya broke them up and the Thane’s horse was taken away. But it wasn’t to be slaughtered. 

The Thane got her Jarl to agree to let the foal be born despite his stallion being a champion from Maven Black-Briar’s herd and not meant to breed with common mares. Rumors were she had pleaded him into his bed – as that was usually the only way she could get him to change his mind – and in the end won out. The Jarl was in a slight mood after but his Thane’s constant affection finally made him drop the issue. But his stallion’s pen was made more secure and the beast got a whipping which didn’t seem to faze it.

Now, in autumn, when the birch trees in Falkreath began to slowly turn gold, the Jarl finally got together a carriage. Most everyone assumed it was to travel to Solitude as the Jarl Elisif was moving sooner to her coronation but his party of soldiers weren’t aimed to the western road. His Thane was the only one brave enough to ask.

“My Jarl?” she said as she helped moved some of his things. He stood outside studying his bow, picking at the worn nook. “Where are you going?”

He gave her an odd look. “I told you this-!” he started but he held it in, exhaling before focusing back on his bow. “Never mind. Shows how much you listen.”

She turned red. “I-I’m-”

“Riften. I told you I’m going to Riften.”

“Why?” his Thane asked after a moment and he looked at her like a falcon watching a mouse making her shrink back a bit. “M-My Jarl..?”

“Maven’s selling her horses,” he said as he looked in the back of the carriage, judging how it was being packed. “You’re getting a new one. A fucking male this time, you hear me?”

His Thane frowned. “I’m coming?”

“No, stupid. I want you to just sit on your ass here. Of course you’re coming!”

“B-But… I-I didn’t pack! I-I’m… I can’t afford-!”

He growled at her making her become silent. “You idiot! We’ll stop at the manor and you can get some shit together, alright? And this will be on me. But you’ll owe me for this, understand!”

His Thane flushed a deep red, her fingers fidgeting slightly and the Jarl scoffed and shoved his bow into her hands, his own cheeks turning red. She followed after like a puppy with its master and the soldiers around the carriage sighed and murmured between themselves. They didn’t know they were travelling into Stormcloak territory either.

And so they left before the sun set leaving Nenya in charge who was more than happy to see them off. As soon as they were gone she let out a long sigh of relief and the town seemed to as well, the people in it just as glad as she was. The unruly stallion was gone along with its arrogant owner and for two weeks the town could actually operate.

Well, that was until Boland started a fight.

 

\-------

 

Chapter One: The Pass

 

His stallion still didn’t seem calm. They had left on a rather crisp morning from her manor with a few soldiers flanking the sides of their carriage and walking behind the Jarl’s unruly horse. Though his stallion seemed rather restless and ready to run, the Jarl was in a rather pleasant mood for his deposition. Kjersti sat behind him, as her mare was being boarded in Whiterun, and she had her arms wrapped around his waist rather loosely until his horse whipped his head up and she felt Siddgeir kick.

“Stop fucking doing that!” he spat and when she let go he looked over his shoulder. “Not you, you twit! The horse!”

“R-Right,” she flushed deeply and she cautiously put her arms around his waist again when his stallion threw his head back and forth. She could feel her Jarl turn from being content to agitated and he forced the beast near the woods so he could grab a switch. A few choice hits and the poor animal seemed to behave making the Jarl growl in response, making sure the beast knew who was in charge.

Kjersti merely hugged her Jarl, her heart beating. She prayed to Mara that she would survive the journey to Riften when his hands clasped over her own.

“Don’t damn well hug me so tight. You’re not going to fall off.”

“S-Sorry,” she said and she loosened her grip but not by much. He didn’t say anything and she slowly relaxed, her body pressed against his and his scent mixing with the autumn air. They rode in silence, the pass becoming steeper the farther they went and finally the sun broke through the trees.

Her breath still hung in the air but the warmth of the sun made her feel better. She pressed her cheek against her Jarl’s shoulder blade, her eyes watching the woods and he leaned back a bit into her, both becoming silent as they went. The soldiers scattered around them were quiet but there was a pleasant mood between them all until the road became steep and the first signs of ruins started to show.

The head soldier stopped them and Siddgeir’s stallion snorted, not enjoying having to pause.

“My Jarl,” the soldier said making Kjersti raise her head. He stiffened a bit, sitting up in his saddle and he waited as the soldier came closer. “We’re about to enter Helgen, sir.”

He pursed his lips. “And?”

The soldier frowned at him. “There’s signs of occupation. And not the good kind.”

That made him tense and he looked over his shoulder at his surprised Thane. “I thought you said you cleared it out!”

“I-I did!” she said. She really did. “A-A fortnight ago!”

“Well, go fucking do it again!” he snapped. “You obviously didn’t do a good job!”

She sighed and struggled to dismount making his stallion stomp. Her Jarl eventually grabbed her by the back of her dress making her squawk and he hauled her off, dropping her on her feet. She nearly fell on the uneven stones but she caught her balance and slowly began to make her way up past the carriage and soldiers. They watched her, some wary and she sighed. She had done this before, she was sure it would be the same.

Sure enough, she entered the ruins of Helgen and heard far off voices within it. It didn’t sound like a lot of them but she still crouched and slinked along the ruins, pulling her hood up high on her body. The abandoned house she had to go through was still vacant making her relax a bit but the further she went, the closer she got to them.

She spotted one by the rotting wooden gate that led east towards Riften, his furs bloodied and a long sword by his side. He was kicking up stones and she sighed, wondering how she was going to do this without alerting everyone when another person came to their side.

“The keep is empty,” the new bandit said, her armor a mix of leather and fur obviously stolen off of bodies. “We can set up here for sure. Merchants have to pass through unless they take the long way through Whiterun and I have a feeling not many will if they want to go to Falkreath.”

“Good,” the male Nord said, his beard knotted heavily. “Tell Ulrich and the twins. We’ll just bring out our weapons for now than in the morning we’ll properly set up locations to see all parts of the road.”

“Yes, Kotch,” the woman said, turning to leave when he stopped her.

“Hey. Come here for a second.”

She turned and he pulled her rather roughly towards him, forcing her flush against his own body and Kjersti wrinkled her nose. She did suppose that even bloodthirsty bandits fell in love but she preferred not to think of them much as being, well, people. It made it harder for her to kill them and harder at night for her to sleep thinking about what she did.

She decided to just go on the offense and her hands lit up with fire. She aimed, careful as to not have it shoot by the two in their embrace and she let go of the magic welling in her hand. It hit the Nord making him shout and let go of the woman, his back soon becoming scorched and she immediately shot back and her eyes fixed on where the fireball had come. She spotted Kjersti – which wasn’t hard considering how bad she was at sneaking – and drew her weapon, running fast towards her.

“I’ll kill you!” she shouted but she never got the chance. An ice shard to her throat stopped her dead and when she was down, she focused on the leader. Fire was always the way to take down a Nord. She learned from her Jarl about it when he reminded her his race had a natural resistance to frost and technically so should she but she knew she didn’t. She only inherited height and her hair from her unknown father, nothing else. She was pure Altmer otherwise, gifted with magic and a natural talent for enchanting and of course, utterly useless in the cold.

So, she shot fireballs at the leader until he went down into a screaming heap. Once there was silence again over Helgen she moved, sighing as she looted the bodies. They barely had any coin and their weapons were brittle iron and misshapen steel. Nothing her Jarl would want so she left them.

She found out who the ‘twins’ were rather fast. Near the keep were two Bosmer archers and they were swift on their feet and with their arrows but not very resistant to her magic. She cast a fury spell on them and left them as they hacked at each other, both clouded by rage at each other. She tried not to think about how cruel it was that she had them turn on one another, preferring just to move on. She was sure her Jarl was becoming impatient.

The one she assumed was Ulrich was inside the keep and he went down after she covered the floor in runes near herself and threw flames all over the walls. She easily backed out of the burning interior but the bandit wasn’t so lucky.

She left him inside and went and searched the twins’ bodies, getting some arrows for her Jarl and a few more paltry coins. By the time she got back, her hypothesis was right and her Jarl was in a mood.

“Took you long enough,” he spat and she flushed. She held up the arrows at him making him purse his lips before she brought out the coin bags. He took the coins and waved off the arrows.

“Put those in the carriage,” he instructed and she did as he counted his bag of septims. Once she came back he tucked the coins away and grabbed her arm, pulling her back up. She clung to him, her arms around his waist again and she sighed as they started to move. He didn’t applaud her or offer any praise for her killing the bandits but when they went by the bodies of the leader and his lover, he looked down at them then over his shoulder at her.

She merely hugged him tighter and he sighed, touching her hand for a moment, briefly squeezing. She took it as a sign she did good and leaned back into him, closing her eyes as they began to steadily move through the rotted gate. She didn’t look at the charred bodies on pikes near the entrance and she felt her Jarl raise his head up as well.

Helgen wasn’t something any of them spoke of. She didn’t want to remember the dragon and her Jarl seemed to feel the same. Only a few of the soldiers spoke lowly about it around them until Siddgeir yelled at them to shut up.

So, they all moved in silence. She preferred it over everything else.

Not far from Helgen they had to stop as the road was starting to become covered in snow. The wheels of the carriage were slipping and the soldiers pulled out chains, wrapping them around the slick metal. They would be moving slower because of it but at least the carriage wouldn’t get stuck so easily. There was a shift in the line as some soldiers now had to come from the back and help push the cart but they were still protected. Three soldiers trailed her Jarl’s stallion while the majority were now up front.

Her Jarl, though, seemed wary. “All of you, get out your weapons.”

“My Jarl?” the leader asked and he kept scanning the trees. She drew her arms tighter around him.

“Siddgeir?” she asked in a soft voice and she felt his stomach tense.

“Get off.”

She blinked. “W-What?”

“Get off,” he said in the same tone. “I want you in front of me.”

She flushed but did as he said, slipping off his stallion and nearly falling on her front when her feet hit the slick ground but he caught her and pulled her back up. His horse didn’t seem pleased about the move but he kicked it in warning.

He moved back so she fit in front and she flushed as his arms came around her, taking his lead. His breath was by her ear making her flush and he let out a low growl.

“Watch the left of us,” he muttered and she immediately looked to her left. “I don’t like how thick the trees are. Anyone can hide in there.”

She exhaled, her breath shaking and her body suddenly alert. “Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

He leaned back, awkwardly holding the reins and he snapped his fingers at his men making them move. The party did so slowly, the chains making the carriage tilt and rock but when they hit the snow it cut through it as if it was warm butter.

The sun soon disappeared behind grey clouds and the further they went, the more the mountain climate started to come down. First it was a few snowflakes but then it got progressively worse until it was a silent blizzard. The men moved with their heads down and Kjersti constantly watched the left to them, blinking snowflakes from her eyes. She shivered and she felt her Jarl hold her close making her flush and she turned to look back at him when his hand wrapped around her waist. He was watching the trees as well and when his eyes flicked to meet hers she flushed.

He slapped her thigh making her jump. “Eyes forward.”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

They pushed on further until the trees began to disappear. Boulders soon blocked her vision and she looked up to see the mountain pass they were moving to cross. The wind ran through it, cutting through her clothes making her shake along with the two imperial soldiers with them and her Jarl sighed in her ear.

“You should have put on warmer clothes, idiot.”

She flushed deeply. “I-I didn’t think…”

He slapped her cold thigh making her jump and his stallion put its ears back. “Obviously.”

She leaned into him, shivering, and she focused her eyes forward trying not to think of the cold. They were past the worst of it as the trees started to lessen so anything that would come at them would be from behind or in front. But danger could still come in from the sides if it really wanted and she frowned. She had never ventured further than the edge of the trees of Falkreath and this was unknown territory to her and she suddenly became more alert at the prospect of not knowing what could come at them. 

The pass which wound through the mountain suddenly went down steeply and the men had to stop as they judged it.

Siddgeir made her get off and she shook like a leaf as she stood beside his imposing horse. “M-My Jarl?”

He tugged off his cloak and tossed it at her making her react, struggling not to drop it.

“There,” he said in an irritated tone. “Put it on, you damn elf.”

She flushed deeply. “B-But-”

“You’re walking,” he cut in. “If this stupid horse slips, I want full control of him. You’d only make it worse being on the saddle.”

She pursed her lips. That was true and she looked down at his cloak and slowly brought it around her shoulders feeling warmer already. He moved, going past the halted carriage, leaning back on his horse as it began to descend and halfway down the beast did slip. He got control of him but the stallion was clearly not enjoying what he was being put through and he acted up, snapping at Siddgeir which got it a hard crack.

The carriage, on the other hand, didn’t slip but it did start moving too fast for the old pony pulling it. The men had to run and slow it and Kjersti joined, her fur shoes slipping in the snow and she fell the same time another soldier did, almost getting run over by the cart and the frantic pony.

By the time they got past the steep decline, the cave near it frightening Kjersti even more than the slick, wet stones, she was soaked and several of the soldiers were limping. Their boots were wet and their hands white and she sympathized with them as one helped her down, both gripping each other tight when their steps wavered.

She gave him a grateful look when the terrain flattened and her Jarl was waiting with his horse, looking rather impatient but he didn’t say anything. She moved to join him but he gave her a rather fierce glare.

“Walk,” he said making her flush. “We’re almost at the camp anyways.”

“Camp?”

“The Imperial camp,” a voice said behind her and she turned to look at the head soldier as he held the pony’s lead forcing the exhausted beast forward while he looked as if he had fought a cave troll. “We’re staying with the Legate of the Rift for the night.”

She frowned. The sun was starting to get further into the sky but she had expected they would stay at the nearby town. She didn’t pack gear to sleep outside and she suddenly felt very stupid as she began to walk wearily with the others. No, she should have expected this. The Rift was under Stormcloak territory, there was no way they would expose themselves so easily by staying in a town. The only way they could be in Riften, though, was under Maven and even then she was beginning to wonder how safe it would be.

Perhaps that’s why she was brought along. If anything happened to her Jarl she would be the one to go ballistic and she looked to him as he rode ahead. Panic set in and soon she was pushing past the head soldier, running to catch up with her Jarl. She slipped and nearly fell once but managed to pick herself up and her Jarl looked back and slowed his horse as he watched her. She came to his side, panting, her lungs hurting and her face red but she grabbed Bloodrunner’s halter making the horse snort. She didn’t let go and she walked beside them, her ears burning.

Her Jarl said nothing but he seemed pleased. They moved down into a low valley, the snow soon disappearing from the path and the start of trees began to show again. It went from thin, weak mountainside shrubs to steady firs and then thick birch and poplar trees. They were all gold, their leaves scattering the road and the sounds of animals within their branches echoing through the valley and Kjersti let out a soft sigh of wonder.

They had made it through the pass and were now entering what she assumed was the southernmost hold of Skyrim.

Her Jarl merely sighed. “Welcome to the Rift,” he said in a rather sarcastic tone but she didn’t take it to heart. It was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it.

Though the beauty lost its charm when a pack of wolves came at them. She was ready to burn them apart but the lead soldier of their party rushed forward with his sword brandished and he was followed by several other men. The wolves didn’t stand a chance and those that weren’t struck rushed back into the trees. The corpses of the dead wolves were taken to be skinned except one which Siddgeir didn’t approve of. Its fur had been slashed too much to make it profitable.

They continued on, past a rotting shack with a moss-covered roof and through the birch forest further until Siddgeir forced them off. He rode easily through the forest on his horse but the carriage became a problem. It constantly became stuck, the mud clinging to the axel of the wheel and by the time they had reached the hidden Imperial camp, the stars were starting to come out.

Siddgeir rode in, the soldiers inside the camp looking rather tense as his stallion tore up the ground but he turned his beast, taming it in front of them and he looked up.

“Where’s your Legate?”

“Right here,” a weary voice came and Kjersti frowned as she walked with the carriage, her clothes damp and leaves and mud stuck to her shoes. She didn’t see the man who had spoken as her Jarl dismounted and his Stallion moved to block her view. Only when a rather stocky Imperial took the lead to his stallion and led the ornery beast to where the other horses were tied did her eyes widen a bit.

The Legate was an Altmer. She didn’t even know that was possible.

She nearly tripped as she came forward making several soldiers look up and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Careful,” one of the Imperial men said and she felt her ears burn.

“T-Thank you,” she muttered, her eyes locked on the ground and she heard her Jarl sigh.

“Honestly, you idiot. Watch where you walk.”

“S-Sorry.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath but the Legate watched her, his gold eyes making her skin prickle. She came to her Jarl’s side, slowly pulling off his cloak and he refused to take it when she held it out. He looked back to the Altmer Legate who was still watching her making her uncomfortable. She was still not comfortable around her supposed kin; she never knew whether they were actually trying to be friendly or judging how to kill her in her sleep.

“Fasendil,” he said and finally the Legate looked to him. “Where’s my tent? Maven should have sent word ahead.”

“On the right,” he nodded and her Jarl moved, making his way towards it. She hung back for a second, looking at her kin from the corner of her eye, before the snapping of impatient fingers made her rush to follow her Jarl. He knocked off the strings holding the flaps and stepped inside, her following rather quick as not to be shut out. Once he was inside he let out a long sigh, his hands on his neck and she heard him crack it making her wince.

“Fucking Stendarr’s dick,” he muttered. “Damn horse. When we get to Riften, we’re getting a saddle as well. That one I’m on has had it.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said and he sighed again, kicking off his boots. She took the time he was preoccupied to look around the tent which seemed to have been hastily put together to accommodate its guest. There was a table in the center with a map on it and a selection of food but bags and crates were piled along the side and a cot had been put out for her Jarl at the back with random furs piled on it. He kicked his boots towards a chair, mud hitting the walls behind it and he fell down on his makeshift bed, judging it.

She came and laid his cloak over the chair for it to dry before his fingers snapped again and she went to him, kneeling before his feet. She didn’t have to be told what to do, it was more of an instinct now and he raised his foot allowing her to massage it. She could feel how tender his arch was making him grunt but she continued until he was satisfied and she could get up.

“You can change,” he said, eyeing her still mostly wet clothes and she sighed in relief.

“Thank you, my Jarl.”

“Go tell the men to fetch you a dress,” he said as he looked her over. “We’re going to dine in here and the Legate may join us.”

She frowned at the thought and he noticed before she could hide her look. “What?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Spit it out,” he said. “You know I hate it when you do that shit.” She sighed but didn’t answer, brushing off her legs for a second when he spoke again. “So, what, you recognize him or something?”

She flushed and shook her head making him purse his lips and she relented after a minute.

“H-How… how can there be an Altmer Legate?” she finally said making him stare at her. “I-I thought Legates were Nords. Or Imperials.”

“They can be anything,” he said as he leaned back on his cot. “No one has ever said you can’t be a Legate if you’re not a human.”

“H-He’s not the only one?”

“No,” her Jarl said as he looked around the tent, judging it for himself finally. “There are others, probably in Cyrodiil. There’s a Dunmer Legate up in The Pale or Winterhold, or whatever fucking Hold it is. Any race can be a Legate.”

She pursed her lips as he got up and grabbed a tankard, looking inside it. “My Jarl?”

“What?”

“Do you trust him?” she asked and he looked to her making her fidget. She knew that judging look and it made her cheeks flush. He scoffed a bit.

“You think he’s a Thalmor?”

She shrugged, embarrassed. She didn’t trust his eyes nor the look he gave her like she should be worried when she went to bed that night.

“Trust me, he’s not,” he said as he put the tankard down and went to grab a bottle of mead, breaking the seal with a twist of his hand. “Funny that you bring that up, you idiot. You’re an Altmer you know. I bet he thinks you’re probably the fucking Thalmor Agent among us”

She flushed an even deeper red. “I-I‘m not.”

“Go get changed,” he said. “Then get back here. I’m fucking hungry and once this is over, we’re leaving early in the morning.”

She nodded and before she left he grabbed her wrist. “And Kjersti?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Don’t wear anything underneath your dress,” he said. “That’s an order.”

She opened her mouth in shock, wanting to protest but his look made her silence herself and she left the tent with a deep flush on her cheeks. She looked at the quantity of soldiers around them who were mixing and mingling with theirs and she sighed. If he wanted what she thought she had better be quiet. Or else she could never show her face to any legionnaire again.

\--

Dinner had been uneventful. The Legate did join them as well as the leader of their party but they didn’t speak to her. They focused on Siddgeir and her Jarl mainly talked to them about battle tactics and politics which she tuned out after a while. She didn’t care to what Ulfric Stormcloak was doing nor who was really in charge of Solitude. Siddgeir stated his opinion, all rather negative on both Jarls and the Legate of the Rift tried to counter but it wasn’t acknowledged.

Once they were done and they sat around having tankards of mead and ale, she took to leaving to check the carriage. She rearranged her items so they were better packed and by the time she had finished, the Legate left their tent and went to his men, watching them as they sat around the fire. She looked to him again, sneaking glances in the dark but he still intimidated her.

His eyes reminded her of Elenwen’s and how they pierced through her soul. She wondered if he was anything like her but she wasn’t willing to find out. She snuck back to her Jarl’s tent, holding the flap open as their lead soldier exited finally and she entered to see her Jarl finishing off his mead.

“Tie the flaps,” he said to her and she turned and did as he commanded. He snapped his fingers once she was done and she came to his side, waiting quietly while he got every last drop of his mead. His tankard was set down, his neck rolling on his shoulders before he looked to her. She said nothing but silently she was shaking as she knew what was coming.

He grabbed the end of her dress and lifted it up making her turn a bright red but she didn’t try and push it back down. His hand moved up, ghosting over her thigh and when he touched her she felt herself throb, her hips rolling a bit. He stroked her making her fingers fidget on her chest, her head becoming light and he withdrew before she got used to it.

He licked the tips of his fingers and she finally cracked. “M-My Jarl…” she said in a shaky voice. “D-Do you really intend to take me tonight?”

He looked at her, sneering a bit. “I can do what I wish, Thane. Or do I have to remind you?”

She bit her lip but didn’t say anything more. He stood, stretching a bit before he grabbed the collar of her dress and pulled it forward. She shivered and looked away as she saw his gaze go down and she crossed her arms over her chest making him growl. She still didn’t like him seeing her chest, not until she actually filled out but that day seemed to never come. Thankfully he let go and pushed past her to sit on his cot, his fingers pulling at the chain that held his furs to his neck.

“Get over here and suck,” he pointed at the floor and she swallowed, flushing at his words. He tossed his furs off, his neck exposed and she did as he commanded and came to his feet. She knelt, her fingers gripping the fabric of his robes and she began to push up but he stopped her. He tugged his robes off himself, his tunic underneath riding up for a second making her flush as she saw his chest and he dropped it next to them, his eyes moving down to stare at her again.

She only had to tug down his thin trousers, the fabric bunching on his thighs and she flushed as he was bare underneath. He caught her surprised look and reached down, smoothing back her hair with an amused smile on his lips.

“Don’t look so hungry, Kjersti.”

She turned a bright red. “I-I’m… I-I…”

“Come on,” he cut in. “Suck. I am tired and am not going to spend all night on you.”

She bit her lip at his words but complied, sitting up. “Yes, my Jarl.”

“Hey,” he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Say my name.”

She swallowed a thick lump in her throat as his eyes bore into hers. He always looked so ready to devour her and she felt herself pulse at the thought. “Siddgeir…” she moaned, knowing how much he loved it and she was rewarded with him licking his lips.

“Suck. Like a good girl.”

She went down on him as soon as he let go of her chin. He was already semi-erect and a few quick movements of her head brought him up fully. But she didn’t want this to be quick like she always was. Once she got a handle of him, her fingers gentle but firm on the base of his cock, she took her time swallowing him up. He stifled a groan and she smiled at his strained sounds.

She decided to savour him as if he was her favourite treat. She tasted the salty texture of his skin, nibbling at the crown of his cock lovingly when he tensed and she pulled off, switching to running her fingers up and down him so she could feel him pulse. He grabbed her hair while she did, not pulling but keeping a grip and she didn’t look to him, preferring to be engrossed in what she was doing. She took him almost to the base, swallowing around him before she pulled off, letting her breath linger over his tip.

Her reward for doing so was a slight pant from him which made her flush in happiness. She darted her tongue out, tasting his slit and he was beginning to leak already from her simple motions. She licked his tip more, hoping more would come out when his grip tightened.

“Kjersti…” he growled her name and she paused, her fingers slowly massaging the base of his cock while her thumb worked his balls. “Don’t tease.”

Her smile was hidden by her giving his cock a soft kiss. “I’m not, my Jarl.”

He growled at her and she flushed, kissing his cock more, feeling him tense with each small contact. She ran her tongue down his shaft, her hands moving to work him and she stopped being gentle as she jerked him off, her mouth against the base. She moved down to his sack eventually, teasing his balls until he pulled on her hair and she was forced to move back up, his hand grabbing her chin.

He forced her to look at him, his eyes dark and she downright throbbed so hard she had to close her legs for relief but she still tested him.

“My Jarl….?” she asked in an innocent tone. He knocked her hands off of him and pressed the head of his cock against her lips.

“Suck.”

She did as he ordered and her hand chased her mouth as she did. His stomach tightened, his grip on her became a bit painful and she almost choked when he bucked up as he was getting close to losing it but she held on. She swallowed him up, making sure his cock was slick and every time she withdrew she swiped her tongue over his slit.

The combination made him finally lose it and she greedily tried to catch it all, his strained moans from above a delight to hear. He let go of her hair, his hand running down her back before he withdrew and she pulled off his exhausted cock, a soft popping noise sounding as she did.

She managed to hold the majority in her mouth but when she moved to swallow, some spilt down her lips making her bring her hands up immediately so it wouldn’t drip onto the boards. She caught it all, swallowing the mouthful she had before licking the rest off her fingers and he grabbed her before she was done making her squawk.

She was tossed onto the cot making her yelp as it was harder than it looked but she didn’t have much time to comprehend it. Her dress was pulled off of her, her body exposed and he was on her in an instant, his fingers against her folds, stroking and she let out a long moan in relief. It would have been fine if they were in the Longhouse but when her eyes opened and she remembered she was on a cot in the woods with several tens of soldiers outside, she became embarrassed by how she was acting.

She tensed and covered her mouth, looking to the flaps of the tent fearfully as if her one noise would draw attention but nothing came inside. Her Jarl laughed at her making her turn a further shade of red.

“What, are you worried now someone will come in and see?” he said and she bit her lip. “Who cares if they do? At least they’ll know who you belong to.”

“I-I don’t want them to see me,” she stuttered and he crawled onto the cot, forcing her legs apart so he could fit between them and she shivered as his cock touched her. “I-I don’t… want them to see you either.”

“Whatever,” he said, past the subject. He reached between her, his thumb moving over her clit and she jerked, covering her mouth as she let out a loud whine. “Be quiet if you want. But you had better be saying my name when I tell you, understand?”

She panted. “Y-Yes, Siddgeir.”

“Good. Good girl,” he complimented making her flush and he withdrew his hand making her whimper. He grabbed her slim hips, angling her right and he began to rub himself against her which made her toes curl and her back arch. She bit her fingers so not to scream too loud but it felt impossible and she grabbed at his arms making him look down. “What?”

“K-Kiss me!” she begged and he growled at her. “K-Kiss me, please my Jarl!”

“Why?”

“I-I can’t hold back!” she pleaded. “I’ve been a good girl sucking you! P-Please, kiss me!”

He didn’t for a moment, pressing himself hard against her clit causing her to violently shake before he let go and grabbed her neck. He forced her up a bit, his mouth on hers and she melted into it, whimpering against his tongue. She gripped his hands, her hips rolling against his and he pushed her more against the cot, rutting against her like a dog in heat. She didn’t care, she loved the friction on her body and she rode it with him, tugging at his bottom lip as she did, moaning into his mouth when she could.

“Siddgeir,” she panted when he let go of her for a second. “M-More!”

He swiped his tongue over her lips. “Spread your legs then,” he said in a rather strained voice and she eagerly did, riding him harder as he grabbed her hips. Her moans were swallowed by him, her back arching as she started to sweat, working towards her orgasm and when he pulled back and angled differently, his shaft running against her wet folds she fell back, shaking.

“F-Fuck me!” she begged, unable to take it any longer. “M-My Jarl, fuck me!”

“I thought you didn’t want that tonight,” he muttered against her lips making her twitch. “Now you want it?”

“I-I want you!” she pleaded. “P-Please!”

He scoffed. “You want it. Then you don’t. Now you do. Make up your mind!”

She gripped his forearms tight. “I-I want you! I always want you! Please, Siddgeir! I’ll be a good girl! Just fuck me!”

He glared at her. “Louder.”

She turned red, her mouth hanging open but she didn’t make a sound. Her eyes went to the flaps of the tent again but his grip tightening on her brought her back.

“Louder!” he snapped. “If you really want me, you’ll damn well beg!”

“F-Fuck me!” she said in a louder voice but when he didn’t look satisfied she swallowed her shame. “F-FUCK ME, Siddgeir! Fuck me u-until I can’t stand!”

He smirked and his mouth was against hers making her dizzy as he slapped her backside. He grabbed her, tossing her onto her stomach on the cot and she struggled, the pelts underneath her uncomfortable when his hands were on her back.

His cock hit her entrance, his fingers reaching down to help and she gripped the heavy bear pelt below, shaking as he began to push in. He always felt bigger when he took her from behind. She didn’t know why.

The thought, however, was pushed from her head when he bucked and he bit the back of her neck as she choked on a moan. He grabbed her forearms, her right struggling under him until he took her hand instead and he began just like he always did. He fucked her like a dog in the height of heat.

It wasn’t as if she disliked it, it was almost the opposite. She loved how he turned into a rough, panting mess when he was inside her since she could gauge his feelings better. Though he never muttered her name over and over like she did to him, he kissed her more, held her body against his desperately and made sure she was marked as his. It was also the only time she could cling to him and moan what he did to her in his ear and get a response that was similar back.

Unfortunately she couldn’t in her current position but she was able to buck back against him, whimpering when his teeth scraped her shoulder. He nipped at her ear, knowing it would make her clench and cry out and her hips were pulled from off the cot, the angle allowing him to go in further and for her to become more vocal.

She quickly rode him to the brink, her legs shaking and body clenching around him whenever she could but at the point in which she needed to come, he pulled out making her gasp in frustration, her head whipping to look over her shoulder and she was grabbed and turned.

His back hit the cot and he forced her above, positioning her so she was riding him on top which made her flush. He took her wrists, pulling her forward as he re-entered and she clenched around him, face red. “S-Siddgeir!”

“Move, Kjersti,” he cut in and he bucked up making her arch from how good it felt. He never let her be on top. Well, he did when he was usually too tired or bored to put any effort into it but this time was different. He thrust with her, moving her as he wanted and she panted as she rode him, her hands soon being allowed to rest on his chest.

He shifted her into a better position, her legs hugging his side and she flushed as he looked to her, smirking. He took her wrists again, pulling her forward as she thrust down and his mouth touched between her breasts.

“N-Not-! M-My Jarl, don’t!” she begged but his tongue ran between the slight valley and up to her collar, his hands letting go of her wrists so he could expose her neck and bite making her tense around him. She clung to him panting hard as she struggled to maintain her balance, her position only letting his cock thrust inside her shallow which made her fidget in frustration. He was moving to lick her jaw when she pushed back and he glared at her.

“Get back-”

“I-I’m sorry!” she cut in before he could continue his command. “It’s… I need it deeper!”

He continued to give her a hard look which made her shiver and she adjusted, bucking down on him which made him wince. She had to show him it was better, despite how much she did love his mouth on her body, and she won over eventually as she thrust down on his cock. He grabbed her waist again, his right hand generously going between her legs to help and her vision wavered as her desire was heightened.

She began to pant and moan and shamefully beg for him again. She tried keeping quiet, her eyes moving to the front of the tent but he threw his arms around her body, leaning up himself to hug her to him and she squirmed in his lap, his fingers against her clit making her senses heighten and her embarrassment melted away.

She came first, her nails dragging down his back and her entire body clenching around him which made him choke. He slapped her ass hard for it and she bucked wildly against him, unable to hold back until her hips hurt and her arms sagged. He finished inside her, his fingers digging into her back and she dizzily kissed him when he forced her head up. It was sloppy and messy and she could feel him leaking out of her but she didn’t care.

He let go of her and fell back on the cot, sighing while she lay on his chest. They had fucked in a thin tent with a ton of legionnaires outside and she didn’t even care. She sighed. She had a problem.

She curled against his chest as her body began to throb, tired from what they had done and the journey. By Mara, she was spent. She could have slept on him that night with him still inside but he shoved her off eventually making her struggle to stand. He rubbed his face, sweat on his neck before he grabbed one of the pelts form underneath him. He rolled, his back to her and she watched him, awkward and finally he exhaled.

“Good night Kjersti.”

She fidgeted. “B-But…”

“What?!”

“W-Where am I supposed to sleep?” she asked and he didn’t move for a second before he rolled over. She stood before him, naked, her body shivering from the lack of warmth she now had combined with his seed sticking to her thighs and he looked around before at the floor.

“Go asked Fasendil for a bedroll,” he sighed. “You can throw it on the floor.”

She bit her lip.

“Good night, Kjersti,” he snapped, becoming agitated and she finally sighed, grabbing her robes. She threw them on, looking back at him, before relenting and going to the tent. She undid the flaps and stepped into the cool air, shivering immediately and she crossed her arms over her chest, her head down as she walked to find the Legate.

He wasn’t with the men and when she timidly looked around more she couldn’t find him at all. She finally relented to asking the leader of their party for help. She found him talking with a few other soldiers and when she stuttered out what she wanted he sighed but helped her, taking one of the bedrolls from his men. She apologized profusely, the poor soldier forgiving her but she still felt bad and she cursed herself for not anticipating what she would need on their trip.

She was about to enter the tent to finally retire for the night when a voice made her jump.

“You’re not a full Altmer, are you?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, turning fast to see the Legate. He was half shrouded in the dark, the nearby glow of the fire illuminating the front of his armor making her flush and he slowly took a drink from his tankard. His unnerving gold eyes were on her again and she shook, her cheeks turning red.

“N-No… sir…” she said, looking for an out. Was he going to insult her like all the rest did? Was he really not a Thalmor? He let out a soft sigh and looked to the tent, his fingers tapping his tankard.

“You serve the Jarl of Falkreath?”

“U-Um… Y-Yes?”

He pursed his lips and she found herself flushing deeply. Did he hear them? By Mara, she hoped he didn’t hear them. She should have been quieter, by the Divines. She should have covered her mouth or kissed her Jarl or something.

“He’s rather a unique man to be serving under,” he said and she gaped at him. She was starting to immensely dislike him and his cold, golden eyes. She disliked it when anyone cast judgement on her Jarl.

“H-He’s a good man,” she found herself saying, her voice cracking a bit. “If you don’t like him, fine. B-But I do and I will defend him to the death.”

His gold eyes went back to her but she didn’t meet them. She didn’t have to, she had said her words. She instead pulled back the flap and held her head high as she entered, closing it tightly behind her. Her Jarl was sleeping, his soft breathing an indication and she unrolled the rough leather bedroll near his cot, slipping off her shoes so she could get inside. The boards underneath her were uncomfortable but she could withstand it for a night.

Before she drifted off she looked back at her Jarl in the waning light of the candle, his body still on its side. She hoped that when they reached Riften she would at least get a bed, maybe one beside his own. Though she had a feeling if she did she would probably be rolling in his more than her own.

 

\-------

 

Chapter Two: The Illusion of Harmony

 

He was up before her, his foot hitting her back and she yelped at the contact, scrambling to get out of the thin bedroll. He stared at her, his hair slightly messed and dark circles under his eyes.

“Wake up,” he said in a scratchy voice. “Go fetch me some water.”

“M-My Jarl…?” she asked, flushing. “Are you alright?”

“Go get me some fucking water,” he hissed and she struggled to get her boots on and she left in a hurry, moving to take some water from the jugs around camp. The Imperial soldiers were already up, their weapons out and uniforms perfectly crisp in the morning light. A few had come back from the nearby river carrying jugs and pitchers of water and she timidly asked for one for her Jarl. She was pointed to the Legate which made her flush and when their backs were turned, she took one of theirs.

Yes, she should have asked the Legate but she wasn’t in the mood, not after last night. Unfortunately, before she could make it back to her tent she was stopped. The Altmer had noticed her and intercepted her path making her shrink back. He frowned at her recoil but she didn’t care.

“Excuse me,” she said in a soft voice and he pursed his lips, the scars on his face clearer to see in the morning light.

“I have to apologize,” he said quietly making her gape at him. “For upsetting you last night.”

“I…” she looked to the tent, the pitcher of water cold in her hands. “I-It’s fine,” she said abruptly. “I’m sorry, my Jarl requested-”

He frowned at her. “If he asked for water, his pitcher is in my personal tent.”

It was her time to purse her lips. “T-This is fine, I’ve got some. Please excuse me.”

He opened his mouth to say something more but he wisely stopped and merely stepped aside. She flushed and politely bowed before rushing back to her Jarl, ignoring the Legate as she did. She felt slightly guilty about it until she remembered his judgement last night. Not to mention she still didn’t like the way his eyes looked at her. Siddgeir was waiting for her and she was about to apologize when he grabbed the pitcher.

“Useless…”

“I’m sorry!” she said and he went back to grab a mug. He poured it himself, dropping the pitcher on the table when he was done and she watched him. He was devouring the water rather quickly and she found herself fidgeting in concern.

“Siddgeir?”

He glanced at her for a second as he drank.

“A-Are you sick?” she asked, worried. He did take his cloak off for her at the pass and he sighed.

“No,” he muttered. “Just dehydrated and sore.”

She sighed herself. “Would you like me to dress you?”

He took a moment, licking his dry lips. “No,” he finally said. “But get over here. My back hurts from last night. You’re heavy.”

She flushed deeply. “I-I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice final and she sighed but came to him, her hands moving over his shoulder. He kicked the chair in the corner over, sitting down and she went behind him, massaging his neck. He drank more, occasionally rolling his shoulder showing it was bothering him or moving his neck making her hands move but he didn’t appear to be ill, thankfully, and when he was fully relaxed she dragged her nails up and scratched his skull.

His purring made her smile. “Do you feel any better?”

“Get me another drink,” he held up his goblet. “And I’ll decide after.”

She did as he asked, coming back to fix his hair and they remained in silence until she had to curiously ask.

“When are we leaving?”

He said nothing until he finished his second drink, water dripping from his lips and held up his goblet forcing her to once again fill it up. She gave him a worried look at how much he was consuming considering he shouldn’t have been so dehydrated but he ignored her as he always did. Once he was finished that, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Right now,” he said. “Get your shit together. Riften’s half a day away from here and I’m not fucking traveling that road when it’s dark. Tell the men they better be ready.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said.

“And make sure they pack extra supplies for the road. Between Riften and here it’s just as dangerous as in Falkreath.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said again and when he began to collect some things she left him, going to find their soldiers. The leader wasn’t hard to find, considering he was already moving the carriage and she informed him of what Siddgeir had said. He merely sighed.

“Understood,” he nodded, looking to his men and he turned, digging amongst the crates in the carriage before he found a robe and he started to strip in front of her. She turned a bright red.

“U-Uhm,” she stuttered. “S-Should… um…?” She was unsure of what to do. Siddgeir stripped in front of her all the time but it was usually behind closed doors and with modesty. His soldier, doing so right in front of her, made her completely uncomfortable and she didn’t know whether to leave until he looked to her, rather unfazed.

“You should get into your new clothes too, dear Thane.”

“New clothes?” she said and he gave her an odd look.

“Did the Jarl not inform you?”

She pursed her lips and he sighed as he knew the answer from just that. “Right… Should have guessed. He should have a pair of robes for you, dear Thane. Once you’re both ready, we’ll move out.”

“Alright,” she said in a soft voice and she was once again darting back to her Jarl’s tent, her stomach starting to rumble a bit but she had to ignore it. The Imperial soldiers around her were starting to properly stir, several of the men forming lines and marching while others started the fire and sharpened their swords in the rising light.

She found her Jarl stripped of his clothes inside the tent, his rich green and brown speckled robe folded on the table and his cloak thrown over the cot. He was pulling on a pair of plain brown robes and she watched him, frowning at the color. He wrinkled his own nose once the end fell down to cover his feet.

“Peasant wear,” he muttered. “You’d think they would at least spend some of their time making their clothes not feel like burlap sacks.”

“Siddgeir?” she said, confused and he looked at her.

“What are you doing? Get changed.”

“Changed into what?” she finally said. “I don’t understand what’s going on!”

He looked at her, judging her from every angle which made her fidget and finally he sighed, moving to her to grab her dress and force it off her body. She yelped when her chest was exposed but he didn’t take notice and bundled up her robes, tossing them on the table. She crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks pink with embarrassment and he began to dig around when the flaps to the tent opened.

She turned on the spot, her eyes wide and face turning red and the Legate stopped when he saw her, blinking in surprise before he looked to her Jarl who didn’t seem to notice.

“Your horse is ready,” he said rather quick before he disappeared and Kjersti stood in place, wishing she could die. How utterly mortifying.

Unfortunately for her, her Jarl didn’t even seem to care. He pulled out an identical pair of robes, shoving them into her hands and he collected his things, wrapping her dress up inside his cloak and he left her without an explanation. She hated when he did that. She just wanted to know what was going on.

Slowly she chewed her lip, tugging the robes on so she was at least covered and the dusted yellow hood that accompanied it fell down past her eyes making her nearly blind. She raised it a bit, awkwardly standing in the tent still until she heard Bloodrunner’s whinny and the sounds of chains and wheels moving.

Out she went, avoiding all eyes, and she found her Jarl standing by his horse, watching a crowd of men who were dressed in brown robes such as the ones they were wearing. She came to his side and looked to him one last time for an explanation.

He caught her eye and finally told her. “You don’t honestly think an Imperial Jarl can travel through this stupid Hold with Imperial soldiers at his side, do you? I honestly thought you were smart enough to figure it out.”

She flushed in embarrassment. “I thought you said Maven assured you it was fine to travel?”

“It is,” he said. “For common travellers. Not a fucking Jarl.”

She flushed and looked down at herself. The brown robes were like Runil’s, the priest of Arkay in Falkreath, but a bit thinner and with gold hoods. Like they were pilgrims. She supposed it would make them blend in more with the autumnal forest but she did wish she was told before. They had an entire night at her manor in which he could have said but he had preferred to take her one last time on her bed than inform her of what was going on.

The thought made her flush accompanied with the thoughts of last night and how her loins still felt rather tender when the Legate came to them and she found herself flushing deeply and staring at the ground.

He thankfully only addressed her Jarl. “Are you going to be on your way then?”

“Yes,” Siddgeir said, looking to him. “I’ll be sure to inform Maven of your help.”

The Legate’s cheek twitched but he didn’t breach the subject. “If you go northeast, you’ll hit the road faster than going back the way you came. Follow it and it should take you right to Riften’s gates.”

Her Jarl looked to the northeast before back at him. “We’ll be back in a fortnight. Granted none of you do anything stupid.”

The Legate frowned. “Our orders are here, Jarl Siddgeir. If we move, we’ll inform Maven and Skulnar.”

“Whatever,” was all he replied and he turned, mounting his horse in one swift movement. He reached down, snapping his fingers at his Thane when she didn’t immediately respond and she took his hand, struggling as he lifted her up. She was made to sit in front of him again, his hand moving around her waist making her flush and he turned his horse, looking to his men.

They looked to him and he sighed. “Alright, move,” he commanded and they did as he said, the carriage taking the lead and he turned his horse one last time, looking to Legate Fasendil who looked to him with a weary expression.

“Well, as they say, Divines watch you or whatever the fuck it is,” he said and the Legate sighed.

“We’ll be on guard for your return, Jarl Siddgeir.”

He gave him a half smile in return. “If you need any extra troops, send word to Skulnar. Tell him I approved it.”

Fasendil gave a bow and he turned his horse, kicking the beast hard in the side making it kick up the ground to catch up with the moving carriage. Kjersti said nothing, just glad they were leaving and she didn’t look back as they took the crest of the hill, a small set of ancient ruins nearby shrouded in fog that followed them the rest of the way to the road. The soft dirt underneath them didn’t conceal their tracks very well but the soldiers behind them saw that once they hit the road, it did not appear that they had come from inside the woods.

The Imperial camp needed to remain hidden and once they were satisfied, they finally moved, her Jarl relaxing his hold on her but still gripped her possessively. She looked back, unable to see through the moving fog but she silently prayed that when they did return in a fortnight like her Jarl had said, maybe it would be a different Legate in charge. Or maybe they could stay at the town. Anything, just not there.

Her lowered head and clasped hands over the horn of the saddle finally alerted her Jarl and he flicked her ear making her nearly fall off the horse.

“What’s with you?”

She flushed. “N-Nothing,” she lied but when he glared at her she found herself sweating in guilt but she turned away, not wanting to voice her dislike for the Legate again. “I-I’m hungry.”

It wasn’t a lie.

His hand tightened around her making her wince. “If you woke up earlier, you would have got to eat.”

She flushed and looked over her shoulder at him. “Y-You… you tired me out!”

He grinned at her statement and she felt her cheeks grow hot, looking forward again and his hand moved down, sliding over her thigh before back up and she bit her lip.

“Just be a good girl today,” he said near her ear and she felt her entire body burn. At least his teasing made her think of something else other than her humiliation with the Rift’s Legate. She briefly did ponder how humiliating it was he saw her nearly naked in her Jarl’s tent but Siddgeir’s hand wandering on her body cut off most of her contemplation on it.

She was going to grab his hand which was sliding down near where she was starting to throb when the carriage in front of them stopped. Her Jarl grabbed the reins, forcing his stallion to pause and the lead soldier moved the cart off the path, looking back at them.

She frowned, not understand when Siddgeir grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against him but it wasn’t possessively. It was more out of fear. “Put your head down.”

“Why?”

“Just fucking do it!” he spat and she immediately did as he said and she could feel how tense he was, his grip against her strong and uncomfortable. She wanted to know what was happening, why they had stopped when the sound of steps and chain metal jingling made her freeze. She recognized the sound from anywhere from her time protecting her Hold; the sound of approaching soldiers. And she doubted they were friendly.

She didn’t dare to even breathe as they went past. She saw, from the corner of her eye, their boots were fur and swords hanging by their sides but it was all she caught a glimpse of. 

One of them did stop but it was just for a second. “Quite a large group? What’s your purpose?”

She felt her Jarl hold her tighter making her fill with fear but their lead disguised soldier spoke first, his voice calm and collected. “Lady Mara has blessed us. We wish to pay her properly at her grand temple.”

The man grunted, clearly not a devotee of the Divine. “Safe travels then.”

“Lady Mara bless you,” their disguised soldier replied and the Stormcloak left, catching up with the marching line he had been with. Once the footsteps and sounds of swords swinging and chain clacking faded into nothing, there was an exhale between them all and the carriage moved once again. They continued on but no one spoke for a while. She merely touched her Jarl’s hand but he did nothing back to reassure her.

After that, she was fully alert, watching the road ahead and Siddgeir no longer teased her, his own eyes set forward. They rode down the long, twisting path, the fog slowly lifting as the sun rose and by the time they started moving up a rather steep hill, the clouds had cleared revealing a deep blue sky and the scent of autumn in its height.

Only when it was high in the sky did they stop by the river and she finally got something to eat. She hungrily ate the piece of bread she was given and her Jarl led his horse into the river, allowing the beast to drink while he watched the road from behind them. Several of the soldiers washed their face and necks in the water, their faces red and she frowned until she realized that underneath their robes many of them still had on their gear. She sympathized with them as the journey so far had been cutting in and out of shade under a hot sun when Bloodrunner reared and stomped in the water.

Her Jarl grabbed the reins and nearly brought the stallion down in one, hard tug but the beast caught its footing. He hit it, hard. “The fuck is your problem, you fucking shit?” he spat. “I should send you to the dogs, the way you’re acting as of late!”

The poor horse shook its head, its eyes moving North across the river and Kjersti followed his gaze. She saw nothing amongst the trees for a moment save for a bird or two flying but when she really focused, she saw what was distressing it. She was up and at her Jarl’s side.

“S-Siddgeir…”

“What?!”

She pointed. “L-Look!”

He glared at her but followed her aim and for a second he didn’t see it until it moved, coming out of the trees. It was a large bull elk, its antlers in full velvet but there was an unmistakable anger in its eyes. It looked crazed, like it had been taken over with a spell and when its mouth opened and green leaves poured from it, she knew it had been.

Spriggon magic. There wasn’t a doubt. Her Jarl pulled his stallion back and watched the elk cautiously, the soldiers around him soon seeing the possessed beast and acting as well.

“My Jarl,” the lead said, coming to his side. “Get back, we’ll handle this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” her Jarl growled. “Any of you deal with spriggon-possessed animals before?”

“No-” his soldier was about to say but he was cut off.

“Then don’t be fucking idiotic. One of you, get my bow,” he commanded, pulling his stallion back towards the road some more and Kjersti felt her voice shake as she spoke without a thought.

“M-My Jarl, don’t!”

“It will follow us if we don’t kill it, stupid,” he snapped and one of the soldiers came back with his glass bow and his quiver, taking the reins of his stallion which seemed to sense not to act out in face of the monster across the river.

Her Jarl slowly loaded his bow, watching the elk which took a step forward, its eyes turning a bright green as leaves and flies spun around it. He drew back the string, his hand steady and his breath slowly stopping and Kjersti felt her own heart stop as she watched, fearful.

He released and the arrow soared through the air until it struck the elk between the eyes. The beast roared and kicked back, crashing against the trees but it wasn’t dead. A shot right to its brain but the damned beast was possessed with more strength than to fall on the spot.

“Fuck!” her Jarl spat, grabbing another arrow but the monster was enraged. Worse, another possessed elk came forward, its antlers larger than the last and it bellowed into the air at them. The wounded one crashed against a tree again, the arrow snapping from its head and it turned, leaves spilling from its bloody mouth.

That’s when she knew; there was only one thing to do and she was really the only one who could do it.

She looked to her Jarl who was lining up another arrow while behind him his archers struggled to get their bow and steel arrows but his eyes were no longer as focused and she hiked up her robes, moving quickly into the river.

“You stupid elf, get the fuck back here!” he immediately shouted as she slipped on the rocks underneath her feet but she kept going, ignoring his command.

“I-I’ll handle this!” she called, the current strong but not enough to wash her away and the hem of her robes was soon soaked. The large possessed beast moved, focusing on her, its eyes dead and antlers lowering but she didn’t back down. The wounded one bellowed in the trees behind it as if calling forth its master and she let her dress fall down completely both her hands needing to be free.

“Kjersti, by fucking Dibella, if you don’t get back here I will send an arrow into your skull!” he Jarl shouted behind her but she ignored him, steeling her nerves. The wounded elk came back, blood spilling down its muzzle onto the shore and it lowered its head with its possessed brother.

But three seconds was all she needed.

One second to draw her hands up, magic coursing through her fingertips. Another second to draw the intricate pattern in the air, green mist and trailing behind. And a third to let go. Her ancestor’s blood filled her veins, her mind completely focused for what felt like an endless eternity but she didn’t move. Not until the elk broke from their place and started to charge.

She released the Illusion spell in one sweeping motion and a ringing hit her as it exploded around her body, water droplets flying through the air as it slammed into the elk, knocking them off their path. Her green light overtook them making them docile and confused as they stopped dead in the water, twenty feet from her and she sighed, turning to look back at her Jarl.

He lowered his bow, his eyes clouded with green and she sighed again as the rest of the soldiers seemed in a daze as well, casually moving around. Such was the effects of Harmony but, well, it was the only way to stop them and she exhaled slightly before she waded back to the shore and the cart. She found a glass dagger amongst her things and she went back, struggling through the current as she moved towards the docile elk.

They didn’t even move or get scared as she came and touched their flank.

“Forgive me,” she asked them before she slit the largest elk’s throat, the beast roaring and kicking away from her but it didn’t charge. It ran back to the shore like a prey animal would when in danger but collapsed, legs kicking out and she bit her lip, filling with guilt. It kicked twice before no more and she felt her hands shake as she went to do the other. It did the same but didn’t make it to the shore, dropping in the water, splashing around before it stilled and she stood in the river, blood on her hands and robes while her Jarl and his party stood behind her, still filled with the Harmony she cast.

She found the spriggon master not far into the woods. It looked at her, calm, its green eyes and bugs softly flitting around and she sighed. No dagger could really piece it, unless she had a lot of time, so she had to do the only other way she knew how to kill one. She consumed it in fire and her spell wore off instantly but not enough for it to save itself.

Its body crumpled, wood splintering and cracking but there were no animals to call to save it and it soon fell to the fire. She threw ice around it to destroy the flames so the forest wouldn’t burn but when it was done, there was nothing left to salvage. She left the body where it had fell and swam back across the river to where her Jarl’s party still remained, their calm states making her sigh.

She washed her robes as best she could before she sat by them and waited for the spell to wear off. When it did, her Jarl hit her upside the head before he hit her again in utter fury that she defied his order and cast a spell on them all.

Well, she did deserve it, she couldn’t argue that.

\--

It was dusk when they reached near the Riften gates, Kjersti clinging to her Jarl from behind as her use of magic had rendered her a tired wreck afterwards. He woke her when he moved, dismounting in a swift, graceful movement and she frowned as he looked down the road before turning.

She closed her eyes, too tired to properly stay away and he snapped his fingers at her. 

“Kjersti, wake up.”

She opened her eyes, her head feeling foggy and she frowned as she looked to him.

“Get off the horse,” he said and she frowned, looking down before understanding. She struggled, her movements unlike her Jarl’s graceful ones and he caught her before she fell and hurt herself, his strong arms holding her up. She clung to him, putting her entire weight on his but he steadied her and forced her to stand making her open her eyes once more.

“M’sorry,” she muttered and he sighed, irritated, but he didn’t chastise her.

“Riften’s not far,” he said and she looked to him, rubbing her eyes. He let go forcing her to stand on her own and as she rubbed her eyes more he went to the head of his soldiers. “Keep going down the road. When you cross a bridge, turn left. Maven’s men will be waiting for you.”

“Yes, my Jarl.”

“Take Bloodrunner with you. The stable hands here will recognize him and if there’s any word of Imperials being in Riften, it’ll be a nightmare for all of us to deal with.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” his soldier said again and he went back, giving the reins to one of the soldiers who seemed displeased with getting the beast to lead. He snapped his fingers at his Thane making her come to his side and he looked her over for a moment.

“Alright, come on. Maul will be waiting for us.”

“Maul?” she said, frowning at the word.

“One of Maven’s men.”

She frowned further but followed, the soldiers moving forward while they took a side path that led towards the lake. She watched the soldiers continue on, the entire party seeming just as tired as she was and she couldn’t help but rub her sore shoulders in exhaustion. When she staggered her Jarl finally grabbed her hand and he pulled her so she was flush beside him, allowing her to lean for support on his body. She would have been happier if she wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep.

And sure enough, just as he said, the gates of Riften were not far down the path. At a pair of large heavy set gates there stood an imposing man dressed in steel gear with his hands folded and Kjersti lingered back a bit intimidated as she started to become alert. Her Jarl merely let go of her and went to the guard.

“You Maul?”

The gruff Nord looked at him. “Who wants to know?”

“I do,” her Jarl said, pulling back the hood of his robes. “I hope Maven is in her manor this time and not in the sewers?”

The gruff Nord stared at him for a second before a smile cracked on face. “Yeah, Maven’s at home. I guess you must be her special guest? Come on. But put your hood up. I couldn’t pay off all the guards.”

“Then kill the ones you can’t,” Siddgeir said, annoyed making the other man chuckle and he turned back, snapping his fingers at her. She came to his side, taking his hand again but this time for safety and he led her through the gates, following the brute into the city.

The first thing she noticed was that it stank of fish. And not fresh fish but fish that had been caught weeks ago and never taken off their boats.

The second thing she noticed was just how dilapidated it was. Falkreath wasn’t exactly built to last but in face with Riften, it looked like it would withstand time. The buildings in the city were falling apart, save for the one on top of the stone steps and she gawked as they walked. The soldiers in Riften – who were clad in deep purple and gold – walked on thin planks above what looked like rather putrid stagnant water and she could see them bend under their weight.

Voices called from a circular place in the center which looked like a market but she didn’t have time to catch what they were all saying. They were taken down a side alley and she looked back forward, trying to catch her Jarl’s eye but he didn’t look to her. She squeezed his hand and he pursed his lips but squeezed back after a while.

Past the alley was a rather large, unused area full of rotting leaves but a row of gates lined a dirt path to the north. They were taken to a heavy steel gate, a lantern hung beside it showing a rather complicated lock and the burly Nord in front of them stopped them so he could pull out a set of keys.

Kjersti looked past him to the house which looked only slightly better than the ones beside it. If this was where Maven resided she found herself disappointed. She had expected something grander.

“There, go on in,” Maul said snapping her back to reality and her Jarl let go of her hand to go first. She timidly rushed after him, staying on his heels and the Nord behind her shut the door after, locking it. Her Jarl paused, waiting for the brute to pass and once he did he went and unlocked the twin doors underneath the large overhang.

“Maven should be inside.”

“Good,” her Jarl muttered as he went in and she looked to Maul who watched him enter before his eyes went to hers. She froze, intimidated, but she collected her manners in time to bow to him her thanks. He merely walked back to the gate, not acknowledging her and she flushed in embarrassment before her Jarl snapped at her.

“Get in here, you stupid elf!”

She immediately ran in after, staying close to his side as he slammed the doors. He glared at her and he bit her lip.

“’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice and he sighed, giving her a look before he pulled back his gold hood, his hand running through his hair.

“You idiot,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose and she leaned forward, about to fuss over him when he looked up and his eyes darkened. “Hemming.”

“Hemming?” she said and she turned quickly to see who he was talking to. Behind her there was a man making her jump a bit in shock and he gave her a queer look before looking back at her Jarl.

“You? Great. I hope you’re not staying long.”

“Why? You have a problem with it if I do?” Siddgeir sneered and the other man glared at him. His eyes moved to his Thane and she stiffened at his less-than-friendly look before they went back to him.

“Who’s she?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“This is my residence too, Sidd-geir,” the man stressed his name.

“The last time I checked, Hemm-ing, its Maven’s. So fuck off,” her Jarl said as he kicked off his boots and shoved past the man. “And if you touch my Thane, I’ll kill you.”

“You touch my mother, and I will kill you,” he said right back and Siddgeir merely snorted before moving down the hall.

She had to quickly take off her boots, flushing deeply as she moved past the unnerving stranger, and she caught up with her Jarl giving him a look but he didn’t explain. He merely went to a set of stairs, taking them two at a time and she followed him up to the second floor where there was a living area larger than her Jarl’s bedroom.

That was where Maven resided, a book in her hand and glass of wine by her side and as she raised her head up as he entered her brows followed, giving them both an unamused look. “Siddgeir. I thought that was you interrupting the peace of my manor. Must you always be so loud?”

“No, that would be your son making all the noise,” he said as he went to her, leaning down to give her a kiss and whisper something in her ear which made her chuckle and Kjersti flush. She always tried not to be jealous of how close her Jarl was with Maven but it was hard, considering how he openly showed her affection while she only got it behind closed doors.

“It’s good to see you, Maven.”

“Hm, I would assume it would be. I heard you stayed with the Legate of the Rift. Must have been fun.”

“Fun is having two girls at once, Maven. What I stayed in was dreadful. I’m a fucking Jarl!”

She laughed at his statement. “Well, next time I’ll send you two Dunmer whores to have fun with.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, smirking at her and she gave him an amused look.

“Yes, honey, I know. I’ll have a word with the Legate and make sure next time you are comfortable.”

He leaned down, his mouth against her cheek and when she started to nearly giggle – which Kjersti found to be a rather chilling sound – she looked away, unable to take it. Their closeness got to her, not to mention him kidding about taking two women when he had her. If she was truly the jealous type she would have spoken up and told Maven who exactly gave him fun but she was still her usual timid self and she resigned to nervously standing by the door.

She awkwardly had to keep standing as her Jarl soon took to speaking quietly to Maven and her eyes moved to the mantle of the fireplace. There was a very delicately carved bird upon it, its eyes carved out of two emerald jewels and she was tilting her head to try and see the pretty pattern on its breast when Maven spoke.

“You don’t have to stand near the door, you know.” She snapped back to reality and looked at Maven, shocked. “You can bloody well sit down.”

She stared, flushing, her Jarl giving her a rather annoyed look and before she could respond or take a seat, Hemming came up and pushed past her making her jump. He went to his mother, giving her Jarl a look before he whispered something quickly to her. Maven said nothing but after a moment she sighed, her amused mood fading. She waved her son off and stood, dropping the book beside her wine.

“Excuse me, Siddgeir. It seems I may be preoccupied for the night. I assume you know which room to take as a guest? You and your Thane can stay there for the night.”

“Thank you, Maven,” her Jarl said and she moved to leave, Hemming going ahead of her before she stopped by the door.

“Oh, and if you wish to fuck her,” she pointed to Kjersti which made her stiffen. “Please toss the sheets on the floor so I know. I don’t really fancy having another guest lay where you’ve come.”

Kjersti turned a bright shade of red but her Jarl smirked.

“I’ll do that with the sheets at the lodge. We’re not going to be doing anything here.”

“We’ll see,” Maven said with a rather wry smile and she left, her footsteps heavy on the stairs. When the door downstairs closed, Kjersti let out a shaky sigh, her face red and her Jarl moved, finding a bottle of wine to drink on one of the corner tables. She watched him as he made himself at home, picking up an unused goblet to fill and he did so in such a way she found herself fidgeting.

“My… Jarl?”

“What?” he said, the amusement in his voice gone.

“…How…” she began before she stopped. She tried to think of what she wanted to ask as she had plenty of questions bothering her when she finally settled on one. “Who is Hemming?”

He looked to her, his eyes judging her for a second before he sighed. “I thought it would be obvious but you are an idiot.”

She flushed at his insult.

“Hemming is Maven’s son,” he said before he began to move, going to the hall and she followed after. “Real fucking idiot, that one. He still thinks he has a shot with her.”

That made her stop. “W-What?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Oh, right. I suppose you wouldn’t know. Hemming is in love with Maven.”

She gaped at him. “Y-You said he… he was her son.”

“He is.”

She suddenly felt sick and she couldn’t even comprehend the thought lest she vomit. He noticed and sighed, going back to usher her towards a room and she couldn’t help but stare at him. “D-Doesn’t that… repulse you?”

“It does,” he said. “But it’s sort of funny.”

“H-How!?”

He shrugged, leading her into a room with a rather large bed inside and he shut the door behind them. “It just is. You have to know Maven to get it,” he sighed. “Anyways, just ignore him. He’s relatively harmless though he likes to think his dick is bigger than it is.”

She flushed and recalled something else. “Why did he tell you not to touch Maven?”

He set down his glass and began tugging the brown robes off his body, the tunic he had underneath riding up. When he didn’t answer she began to stare at him, flushing deeply.

“My Jarl?” she asked and he took another drink, not looking to her until he was finished. He merely glanced at her body before he pulled back the blankets on the bed, touching the sheets below and he tossed his robes onto the dresser.

She crossed her arms, uncomfortable, suddenly feeling as if she never should have come when he went to her side, his eyes moving up and down her body. His fingers touched her waist first making her slightly flinch and he trailed the tips down before going back up and he pulled her hood back, tugging her hair out of the bun she had loosely wrapped it in.

She bit her lip as her hair came undone and he moved to standing in front of her, holding her neck gently like he sometimes did when they were home. She found herself flushing, her heart beating in her chest as the back of his fingers drew up near her jaw and she stopped him by touching his wrist.

“My Jarl…”

His dark emerald eyes stared into her own and she bit her lip again, her cheeks feeling hot when his voice came out in a quiet but commanding tone.

“Hemming is a stupid fucking boy,” he muttered, pulling her hair so it hung down over her shoulders, his fingers stroking the strands. “And I’ll tell you what I damn well say every time we go to Solitude and you see Erikur.”

The mention of the Thane of Solitude made her freeze, her jaw tightening in anger.

“Don’t you ever let him say anything to you, understand?”

She nodded, her head filled with anger at the mere thought of Erikur. “Yes, my Jarl,” she said in a dry voice. He smiled a bit, his thumb running over her cheek before he kissed her making her freeze. His warm, alcohol-laden lips eventually made her part her own and she gripped his chest as his tongue rolled in her mouth.

She was starting to feel hot again, forgetting all about Maven and her son and the irritation she felt before when he pulled back and grabbed her dress, pulling it up. She eagerly moved to getting rid of it when he stopped her.

“We’re not doing anything tonight,” he said making her pause. “I meant it when I said that.”

She found herself awkwardly flushing. “Then… why do you want my robes off?”

He gave her a look as he moved past her, picking up his wine again to finish it off. “I hate the feeling of that itchy, cheap fabric. I’d rather have you naked next to me than in that.”

She flushed a bit at his wording but she discarded her robes, putting them near his own and when he fell into the bed, groaning, she moved to douse the light. She started to crawl in beside him when she noticed the difference.

She touched the bed again, not feeling straw underneath but something different. It made her wary and she kept pressing on it, trying to figure out what it was when he grabbed her in the dark, pulling her against him.

“What are you doing?”

“T-The bed isn’t straw!” she flushed, squirming against him as his fingers were dangerously close to where she was ticklish. “W-What is it?”

“Feathers,” he said. “Maven can afford it.”

She gaped at him though she knew he couldn’t see and she was turned, her side hitting the bed and she sank down making her gasp. It was like what she thought some clouds would feel like. She wasn’t used to such softness and even the pillow she got was soft.

Her hands were still touching the sheets when she heard her Jarl behind her.

“Fuck it.”

His hand grabbed her hip and she was turned. “My Jarl?”

His mouth hit her neck and she felt his cock hit her thigh making her stiffen and flush.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded and she let out a pant. “I’ll show you just how damn good a bed like this can be.”

Her toes curled behind him.

“Y-Yes, my Jarl.”

\--

Her sleep had been rather restful despite the fact that her Jarl fucked her long past the point in which both should have been awake. The bed was rather exquisite to feel. He had made her get on her stomach and the way she sunk down with every thrust he gave was addicting. But she had been exhausted by the end and both of them remained tangled under the blankets until Maul was sent to physically wake them up.

This time she did mind putting on the robes as they did feel scratchy after being in such a bed but her Jarl assured her it wouldn’t be for long.

“We just need to do some business here, then we’re going to the lodge.”

“What’s the lodge?” she asked as she fixed his hair, her nails scratching behind his ears to make him melt a bit.

“…Maven’s lodge,” he muttered, leaning into her. “It’s out deep in the woods. No Stormcloaks go near it since she has her own mercenaries so we’ll be fine. All of her horses are out there as well so you can see which one you want.”

She looked over his shoulder to him. “Her horses…?”

“That’s what I said.”

“But… I thought she only had one?”

“No,” he said, taking her hands and putting them on his shoulders. “I said she has one main one. Frost. Some legendary sire or whatever. She has an entire herd she breeds out otherwise. She just doesn’t use them.”

She rubbed his shoulders as he wanted, thinking. “So, we’ll be at an isolated lodge… where Maven keeps her horses?”

“Yes.”

“And our soldiers will be there?”

“Yes…”

“And some mercenaries?”

“Yes… Why?” he asked, annoyed and she flushed, her fingers pausing on his shoulders and he looked back at her. “Why?”

She flushed.

“Are… the beds out there… like this one?” she asked, her cheeks turning red and he stared at her for a moment before he smirked.

“Yes.”

She bit her lip.

“Will the bedroom be ours? No one else’s to enter?”

“…Yes.”

She gripped his shoulders for a moment, her legs pressing together and he was watching her with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“My Jarl…?”

“Yes?” he said quietly.

“Will we have time…?” she blushed. “…Like we did here?”

“…Yes.”

He didn’t pull away when she eagerly kissed him as a response.

 

\-------


	59. No More (Alternate Timeline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: When M!NPC learns that his lover is pregnant, he is horrified and more than angry about this. Why? Maybe he is married. Maybe he is someone very important (like a jarl or a legate for example). But he can't allow her to give birth to his bastard. But could he really ask her to kill their future child? And will she accept?
> 
> Alternate Ending to Kjersti & Siddgeir.

The news came on a dreary day. He had gotten back from looking over the soldiers in the barracks, judging them on their worth and while he was shedding his cloak she came to him, frantic.

“What?”

She shook.

“I’m pregnant.”

His heart nearly stopped. He looked at her, shocked, his eyes immediately moving down to her stomach and she fidgeted, looking to him for help. He nearly growled his response.

“Get rid of it.”

She went still, her eyes widening. When she continued to be speechless he began to get agitated. “Now, Kjersti! I will not tolerate a bastard from you! You know this!”

She said nothing, still in shock and he moved to slap her to get her senses back when Nenya came in the room. She didn’t notice the tension.

“Siddgeir, the head of the guards wants to speak to you.”

He gave her a look, moving back and forth between her and his Thane and he grabbed his cloak again, shoving it on. “Fine.”

When she left he looked back at the girl standing near him, still confused.

“I mean it, Kjersti. Get rid of it.”

He left before she got her voice back.

\--

He began to hound her every day after. She at first didn’t go and when he got her to admit she was scared he reminded her what a bastard would do to him. Once she understood and still didn’t go to Whiterun he started to get angry.

Every day he would ask and she would shake her head sending him into a rage.

“Why not?!”

“I… I can’t… just go and ask…”

“No? Then I’ll write a damn letter,” he spat. “You’re getting rid of that, Kjersti! There is no debate on this!”

She had said nothing but slowly she started to keep her distance from him. Truthfully, he didn’t mind. The less anyone thought they were actually involved, the better.

\--

Nenya found out. He had no idea how but he was confronted by her angrily when he got back from hunting, her eyes wild.

“You got her pregnant?!”

He glared at his steward, looking angrily to his Thane who looked shocked at Nenya. His damn steward let out an exasperated noise. “It’s not hard to tell, Siddgeir! How could you do this? How could you be so irresponsible as to do such things to your Thane?!”

He growled at her. “Excuse me? I didn’t ask your opinion. And she’s getting rid of it. Aren’t you?” he spat and his Thane frowned deeply. “Kjersti!”

Nenya stepped it up. “What? Are you threatening her to get rid of your child?”

“I am not having a bastard, Nenya!”

“It’s her choice,” she shot back. “Regardless of what you do, you cannot control her body!”

“I’m the damn father!” he spat. “I have every right to say what should be done! And it is to be destroyed!”

“That isn’t your call!” Nenya said back and he stepped towards her, trying to intimidate her. He was furious this was even being brought up, and in the open but the Altmer didn’t back down.

“Nenya. This is none of your fucking business.”

She stared him down. “It became my business the moment you got our Thane pregnant.”

He moved to speak but before he could, the small Thane stepped forward.

“N-No,” she finally spoke making them look to her but she didn’t look up. “No… I… It’s fine, Nenya. It’s fine. I’m… getting rid of it. Tomorrow.”

“Kjersti,” Nenya started but she shook her head.

“I’ll get rid of it.”

He watched her, how she wouldn’t raise her head, how she was trembling and his cheek twitched.

“Good. You’re dismissed then. To leave early tomorrow,” he said, relaxing and she did a short bow before she left the Longhouse leaving him alone with Nenya who gave him an angry look.

“Siddgeir-”

“You heard her,” he cut in, done with the conversation. “And I will damn well hear no more of this, understand? She said her verdict. It’s done. None of this was your fucking business anyways so you better shut up.”

She stared at him, her anger visible as she shook and instead of going back to her duties, she left the longhouse as well, slamming the door behind her. He didn’t care. He wanted this over with.

\--

He got notice she had returned back to her manor days later but it wasn’t from Rayya or his Thane. A guard mentioned it in passing and it infuriated him that he wasn’t told. Before anyone could do anything he rode out, taking the east road to get there faster.

When he came in, Rayya was walking down the steps, her head moving up and he ignored the dark look she gave him. He wasn’t in the damn mood.

“Where is she?” was all he asked. She looked behind her then left, moving to the edge of the land to patrol. He made a mental note of her attitude but took the steps anyways and found his Thane sitting quietly on the deck.

She didn’t look different.

“Kjersti.”

She jerked at her name, her eyes looking weary but she struggled to stand when he came.

“M-My Jarl… what are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

He looked her over and she went quiet, her eyes casting down and her fingers fidgeting. He asked her straight out.

“Did you-?” She nodded. “And?”

She frowned. “And…?”

He sighed, trying not to get irritated. “Are you alright?”

She said nothing but her shoulders began to shake and he pursed his lips. She tried to hold it in but a whimper came out and she covered her face, stepping back.

“Kjersti.”

“I’m fine,” she sobbed, moving away from him further and she went back to her chair, shaking as she sat down. “T-They told me… I was going… to be a bit up and down. Hormones. I-I’m fine. T-Truly.”

He stood awkwardly watching her, how she wouldn’t look at him, how her eyes were constantly cast down and he slowly moved, going to her side. He touched her shoulder and she flinched as if he hit her before she relaxed.

“Sorry,” she hiccupped and he couldn’t help but bite back the bit of anger welling inside him.

This wasn’t his fault. 

“You know why you had to do this,” he started again and she pulled away a bit, head down. “Kjersti. I can’t have a bastard with you.”

She said nothing, her shoulders shaking and he was getting irritated.

“This isn’t my fault,” he had to say it. “We’ve discussed this before! Before you ever became pregnant! I cannot have children with you! So, honestly, your crying-“

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it again!” she shouted making him stop. “I’m… I’m done!”

He stared at her. “What?”

She began to weep again, her hands shaking and her eyes angry as she got up from her seat and faced him. Her cheeks were now strained with tears. “I can’t have children. Ever again.”

He said nothing for a moment. Then he made the mistake of speaking. “So what?”

She shook like he had never seen and she shoved past him, ripping open the door to the manor. She only paused in the entrance to yell one last thing.

“It was a boy!”

The door slammed and he didn’t go after her.

\--

He let her stay at her manor, not calling her back long after he knew he could. The Longhouse had become cold with Nenya still barely speaking to him. He didn’t care but the lack of interaction was making him a bit crazy. Once he went a full day without speaking more than a sentence. It was pissing him off and he really had no one to blame for it either.

He was contemplating leaving to Riften to visit Maven when the door to the Longhouse opened and he straightened as someone came in. Their robes were dark, their hood up, but he knew their body anywhere.

He said nothing as she came forward and she moved slowly to stand beside him, silent as she did. He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to speak but she said nothing and he had nothing to say in return. He went back to staring out at the burning fire in the hearth, his thoughts on why she had come but he resigned to just accepting it.

There was no need to speak about it.

When she moved to leave for the evening he stopped her. “Kjersti.”

She still looked down but she followed his directions which made him sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and her eyes flicked up, looking into his for a moment in shock before she nodded. He contemplated reaching for her or just having any contact with her but he decided against it and he merely let her go.

He undressed himself, not getting into bed right away as his thoughts lingered on his Thane and he knew dropping it would be the best. That was always the best thing to do. He was about to douse the scones in his room when a soft knocking came and he frowned.

“What?”

The door opened and she came in. She closed it behind her, her hood still up and head down making him pause but she didn’t linger by the door. She came forward, timid, just as she had the day Runil brought her in to his domain and he waited for her to speak.

She reached up and drew her hood back making him stare. She had cut her hair short. His cheek twitched in disbelief and their eyes met, her weary, sunken ones with his own.

“I came… to say what I wanted to say earlier,” she said.

He stared at her.

“I don’t want to be your Thane anymore.” Her voice echoed in his room. “I don’t want to be anything of yours. Ever again.”


	60. Happy (Alternate Timeline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: i want you to take your skyrim pairing (with/without DB in there, i don't care) and make one of them make another cry.
> 
> This was written for that really sweet girl. I loved her prompts, ha ha.

She stood before her forge, the flames low despite the logs she had put in and she watched the embers flicker under them, licking the bark of the wood but not igniting. It made her weary seeing how her forge wasn’t lighting and she went to fetch another log when the door to her cellar opened and down came Rayya, her expression hard.

“My Thane,” she called making her look up. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“Who is it?” she asked, pausing in her hunt for firewood when a noise above made Rayya look up and she disappeared. In her place came down a man, his robes of expensive make and his green cloak sweeping the ladder making her flush. She stopped what she was doing and awkwardly stood as he came forward, her eyes not meeting his.

He stared at her, his green eyes running over hers before he folded his arms. “This is where you’ve been hiding?” She flushed a deep red. “What are you, a blacksmith now?”

“Hello, my Jarl,” she said in a stiff tone, her heart beginning to beat quicker in her chest. “What brings you to the manor?”

“Don’t get cute,” he spat and she bit her lip but didn’t protest. Their argument was still fresh in her mind despite a week having past, his angry words about her being a greedy half-breed burning in her chest and she maintained her stiff position as he walked into where her forge was, his crown shining on his head. He stopped opposite of her, staring like a hawk wanting to catch its prey and she said nothing. “You haven’t come down to the Longhouse in more than a few days.”

Her voice came out quiet in response. “I displeased you when I was there last. I thought it would be best-”

“You thought? That’s rich,” he cut in and she paused, her cheeks turning red.

“Forgive me, my Jarl,” she merely finished and she went to grab a log, placing it within the forge before she went to the bellows, focusing heavily on it as the air between them lay awkward and tense. He continued to stare at her before his cheek twitched.

“You’re still angry at what I said,” he tapped his fingers on his arms at her and she hesitated but didn’t speak. “The truth tends to hurt.”

She stopped, staring at the flames with an almost angry expression before she buried it and looked to him. “What would you like, my Jarl?” she asked in a blank voice making his eyes narrow.

“Excuse me?”

“I-I said, what would you like?” she looked to him, trying to maintain her composure but the anger that flashed in his eyes made her hesitate and she found herself moving instead, the awkwardness between them becoming unbearable but he cut her off, his presence heavy and she found herself moving back a bit, trapped between him and the forge.

He glared at her making her fidget before he spoke. “Don’t try and act out, girl. I’ve known you long enough to know you can’t back up your words.”

She flushed but said nothing and he looked her over making her uncomfortable and she took to sitting on the edge of her forge, covering her flaws. She stared at the floor, the tension getting to her again and he crossed his arms, still judging her.

“So, you think you can just hide up here in your cramped little cellar and ignore your duties?”

“No,” she said and he stepped towards her making her shift.

“Then why haven’t you come down to the Longhouse?”

She said nothing for a moment, her heart pounding faster in her chest and she chose her words carefully. “I was angry.”

“You were angry?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“B-Because of what you said,” she admitted and she looked to him finally, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she did. “B-Because you… you say things like you… you want to intentionally hurt me! To make me miserable!”

“What?” he snapped like a wolf and she shook a bit in fear. “Because I told you you’re a greedy, stupid elf!”

“Y-You called me a half-breed!” she said in defense before silencing herself when he glared at her.

“Because you are! You want me to lie?” he demanded and she didn’t reply. “You are a damned greedy half-bred elf. And I didn’t realize until now but you’re damned incredibly selfish as well!”

“M-Me?”

“Y-Yes, y-you!” he mocked and she felt her ears burn. “You constantly pull this stupid shit of running away like the timid damsel and for what? What do you want from me?! Because no damned human would be as stupid as you are in trying to hear what you want! To anger someone into talking!”

That made her stop and she stared at him, confused. “I don’t…”

“Yes, you do!” he stepped towards her again and she stiffened, her fingers gripping her robes now. “You want something from me, to hear me say something that you damn well know I won’t, so you fucking press it! Don’t you?! And it’s not an apology!”

She bit her lip.

“Kjersti!”

She closed her eyes, trying to block him out but it was impossible as his imposing presence was making her uncomfortable. She started shaking her head, denying his claim but she knew, deep down, he was right but she couldn’t say it. A hand slapped her making her jerk and open her eyes and he was above her.

“Kjersti,” he said in a dark tone that made her go cold, even with a fire at her back. “You know I don’t love you.”

She stared at him in shock.

“…My Jarl…”

“I never will,” he continued. “Not now, not ever. You are a half-breed elf and a poor representation to both sides. You are inferior to me, a Jarl, and even as a Thane you are severely lacking. Even if fucking Mara came down and gave her blessing, I would never love you.”

She shook for a second, her blood stopping and her heart suddenly pounding louder than a waterfall. She could only stare at him, her mouth falling open a bit and she felt a tiny voice come from her throat. Something inside her that needed to speak.

“But…”

“But?” he said, his eyes flashing making her shrink down. “But? But what, Kjersti? What? You love me? You always will and all that stupid bullshit?” he accused and she felt her bottom lip shake as she began to tense herself, her heart starting to sting. “I don’t care if you have feelings for me. I’m telling you now they are never going to be reciprocated so fucking stop it!”

“I can’t!” she suddenly blurted out, covering her mouth after she did and she felt tears welling at her eyes making him tense. She lowered her eyes, curling over a bit and she found herself speaking again, her shoulders starting to shake, her emotions tumbling inside her from the anger of before and the fear she was experiencing now. “I can’t stop… having feelings for you…”

“No? Well here’s what you can do. Stop trying to fucking manipulate me into returning them!” he spat making her flinch. “You think I don’t know? How you act utterly submissive to me as if that will change my gaze? That if you do whatever I say, somehow that will translate into love? That if you hide out here forever I will fucking come and chase you as if you’re some stupid trophy? You are my servant! You’re supposed to be submissive to what I say and no matter how much gold or how fucking long you stare at me, I will never love you!”

She closed her eyes, his words cutting through her and she found herself shaking a bit more as her heart began to hurt inside her chest. “I’m sorry…”

“No, you’re not!” he nearly shouted making her lower her gaze more in guilt. “You’re only sorry I’m finally calling you out on this! So, end it, elf! I will never love you!”

“Why!?” she pulled her eyes up, staring deep into his angry green ones and she couldn’t help but let her voice crack. “Why? Just tell me why!”

She watched his jaw tighten but he didn’t break their gaze. “Why would I ever love a weak, inferior girl? Do I really have to go over my reasons again?” he said in a calm, cold tone and she continued to stare until the tears blocked her vision and her eyes went down, her heart twisting inside her. “The better question is, why you think anyone would care for you?” he cut in making her flinch. “Why should I ever love you? What would ever make you think you deserve my affections?”

She began to shake, tears still falling from her eyes. “You… sleep with…”

“I have sex with you, you stupid elf, because I can! You’re an easy lay!” he snapped causing her to stop, her heart pounding louder inside her. “Fucking you does not make us suddenly in love! So again! Why? Why would I ever love you?!”

She had no answer and she stared at him, biting her lip painfully as the tears kept falling and she gave a small shrug which he wasn’t satisfied with. “Why, Kjersti!? Tell me why!”

“You… You wouldn’t…” she finally said in a small voice.

“What was that? Say it louder!”

Her shoulders shook violently and she swallowed down her beating heart, her voice cracking as she said it again. “Y-You wouldn’t!”

“That’s right. I wouldn’t. So stop deluding yourself and stop wanting it. I will never love you,” he said in a final harsh tone which made her flinch in guilt. “Your crying is for nothing.”

She nodded, covering her face for a moment before she wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, turning to shield herself from him as she continued to struggle to stop. Her heart hurt more than she could bear and it felt as if it had snapped from its place inside her and dropped to the floor, her pain over his words infecting her mind and he growled in anger making her fuss more.

“Are we done? Do you get it now?” he spat and she merely nodded in submission. “Good. I don’t ever want to hear of your stupid, useless affections again, understand? Nor do I want you hiding from me and neglecting your duties. You are nothing but a possession to me. Your job is to keep me happy, not piss me off, you stupid fucking elf.”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl,” she said in a broken voice and he scoffed.

“Whatever. Tomorrow I expect you down at the court and you had better have a hold of yourself. I will not tolerate it if you’re acting like this,” he said before turning to leave her finally allowing her to bury her face into her hands. “And Thane? I expect a large sum of gold when you come back. You owe me for this.”

“Y-Yes, my Jarl,” she said, composing herself until the slamming of the cellar door allowed her to break and she moved off the forge to sit beside it, sobbing violently into her hands. She had never felt as small as she did at that moment, so little and weak and she brought her knees up to her eyes, coughing as she had her fit.

Her heart felt broken, as if it had been stepped on and she knew what everyone would say if they saw her. It was her fault, they tried to warn her, she was told over and over. She curled over, holding her neck as the thoughts flooded her and she was left helpless and shaking, every recollection of ill words towards her coming back.

She wasn’t meant for anything other than to be used. How foolish she had been to ever think she could matter to someone.


	61. A Certain Genetic Disappointment (True Timeline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Give me fathers. Your Male dragonborn as a father, an NPC, PC, dragon. Whatever. Just give me a story on 'em. On some big burly Nord treating his daughter like a princess or showing his son how to punch a bear or hugging his bitty wife while he then picks up his kids and acts like a MANLY DAD or whatever. FATHERS. *rips shirt* FATHEEEEERS.
> 
> Hate to break it to a lot of people, but this is what subsequently was going to happen with Kjersti & Siddgeir. He was married off to Gisli, which he didn't give a shit about, and left her, only seeing her to knock her up twice. He got the kids after she prematurely died and then it was basically going to be Kjersti dealing with the worst heir to the Falkreath throne ever. Alas, it never came to pass but I still have the memories written on my harddrive.

They had been dropped off at noon.

“This is barely a city! Everything here looks so poor and shoddy!” a small, young girl accused, her voice echoing down the street making the blacksmith look out from his workstation and an elderly old soldier stop his chopping. The Jarl of Falkreath, being led by his Housecarl, narrowed his eyes but came forth from the Longhouse in which he owned, having heard the carriage pull up with its noisy cargo.

The carriage driver unloaded a chest and one more box before he went to leave. The older girl turned on him. “Excuse me!? You put our stuff on the road!”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “I was paid to bring you here. I’m not your servant, girl.”

She scoffed. “No kidding. I would have fired you right away!” she waved her hand flippantly at him and her sister next to her held her doll tighter, her ears turning red in embarrassment. “Whatever! Be gone then, peasant!”

The housecarl of Falkreath, a rather young half-elf with long black hair gaped at the girl as she walked forward with her Jarl. She had never heard a child speak in such a disrespectful way and as they came closer, her Jarl began to growl at the scene. Some of the townsfolk had come from the inn, Mathies, the widowed farmer looking from his door and there was an uneasy tension as everyone stared at the children who didn’t belong.

The little black haired girl didn’t seem to pay attention. She looked at the Jarl, her eyes running over him in judgement and she sneered. “Who are you?”

“Excuse me?” he said, growling, his emerald eyes sharp as he came to stand before her. “Who the fuck are you? You, driver! What is this? We don’t accept orphans here, that’s Riften.”

The carriage driver looked to him as he finished strapping up his horse before he shrugged. “I was paid to bring them to Falkreath. That’s all I know.”

“Yes, that seems to be all you do know!” the rude girl said and her sister began to shake.

“Risi… don’t…”

“Oh, be quiet you big baby!” she snapped at the younger girl. “This is all your fault! Now we’re stuck here in the sticks in some poor town surrounded by poor commoners!”

Everyone seemed to bristle at her words but the Jarl merely narrowed his eyes.

“Who sent you here?”

“Why?” she said, giving him a look. “Who are you? The town fool?”

Even the barmaid gasped at the girl’s words and the housecarl took a step forward immediately to defend him but he held a hand up, though she could see he was seething.

“I am the Jarl of this Hold,” he hissed in a dangerous tone. “Now you tell me, you little brat, who sent you before I really lose my patience.”

The girl actually seemed shocked at his words and she looked to her sister who had her eyes trained on him, her mouth tight. Both exchanged a look before the black haired girl folded her arms.

“If you are the Jarl,” she said. “Then you are who we’ve come to see.”

“Excuse me?”

She turned and dug through her stuff, pulling out a letter which she held out for him but he didn’t take it. His beautiful Altmer steward stepped forward ready to take it but the girl held back. “No! This is for the Jarl!”

“She’s my steward,” he snapped. “Give her the fucking letter! And explain yourself!”

“We’re your daughters!” the small blonde girl cried out and there was an immediate silence that filled the air. The Jarl went rigid as did his steward and housecarl and there wasn’t a sound between them all but the snapping of the reins of the carriage, the driver pulling away leaving the town still suspended in shock.

It was the year two hundred and twelve in the month of second seed, ten years after the civil war had ended that the town of Falkreath was rocked with a new revelation. Their next Jarl was going to be a girl.

And she was worse than her father.


	62. The Hardest Part (Alternate Universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: The male Jarl of a hold gets engaged to a noblewoman - which is normal. Jarls need to have offspring or kin to one day take their throne but there's a problem. The Jarl has been having an affair with their thane (or housecarl) for a while now and this news utterly devastates them as it comes as a complete surprise. The Jarl didn't want to inform them as it would obviously have a negative backlash and the woman he's going to married turns out to be a good match for him. Angst, of course, ensures for the poor thane.
> 
> I wouldn't call this an alternate timeline since it's not what happens at all. I just wanted to fill this and wangst all the way (Just kidding. I laughed a lot while I wrote this).

The rain fell, heavy, the sky a light grey as it did and Kjersti looked out from the open door, her walking stick gripped in her hands tight as she watched the fog roll in from the mountains, her longing to go outside apparent. She turned to look to her mother who was bent over the worn alchemy table, her hands mixing a potion, humming as she did. “Mo-o-om! Please!”

Her mother said nothing but her lips tightened in displeasure. “Just for a while! I promise I won’t go near the road!”

Her mother stopped and she braced herself on the table, staring straight ahead as the roof began to leak over her, water hitting the old wood. “Kjersti, we have been over this! I know how you lie! You always go to the road and you know it is forbidden! So you stay right in this house, or so the gods help me-!”

She sighed at her mother, looking back out to the playground before her, her wanderlust burning in her heart. Her mother always threatened her and she turned back on her, moving to her side as she grabbed the bowl, tossing a stalk of blisterwort into it. “Why?! Why can’t we ever be normal?! Why do we have to stay hidden away in this… this… this shack!”

Her mother slammed the bowl down, her golden eyes on her and she bit her lip, wringing her stick in her hands. “I built our home with my bare hands, Kjersti! Don’t you ever insult it!” she spat making her flinch. “And you know why you cannot go by the road! The road holds every danger! Men wanting to steal your flesh! Women who want to rob you blind! It is dangerous and here you are safe!”

There was a crack in the air, thunder rolling down from the mountains and the rain became heavier, more leaks forming in the roof as water dripped from every crack. Her mother grit her teeth and moved, collecting pots and pans to put under each drip. She snapped her fingers and Kjersti had no choice but to put down her stick, moving to help her but she did it lazily. Her mother slapped her for it and she yelped, grabbing her head.

“Stupid girl!” she snapped. “You’re doing it wrong! Get out of the way if you cannot help!”

She stumbled back, going towards their bed where a pot had been placed on it and she sniffed, rubbing the spot. Her mother stopped, her eyes moving to her and for a second there wasn’t any recognition. Her eyes were blank, cold and Kjersti bit her lip.

“Mom!”

She snapped out of it, both of them quiet and the sounds of rain leaking down into the pots joined with the heavy downpour outside was all that echoed between them. Her mother touched her head, lost before she came to her side, sweeping her up into her arms. She held her back; she hated when her mother got like this.

“Honey, honeybear, I’m sorry,” she soothed, sitting down on the bed as she cuddled her. She held her back, her arms around her neck. “Mommy didn’t mean to hit you. Mommy’s just…”

“Sick?” she finished her sentence and her mother sighed, moving so they could see each other, her eyes full of sorrow.

“Yeah. Mommy’s sick.”

“Why can’t we go to the road?” Kjersti begged. “Why can’t we find someone to make you better, mom?”

Her mother reached up, gently stroking her black hair and she stared at her, hurt. Her mother shook her head. “I know you don’t understand, honeybear, but maybe when you’re older you will,” she pulled her back into a hug. “The road leads to people. And people, men and mer, only exist to hurt you. It’s better off being here, alone.”

Kjersti said nothing. How could she understand? She was only passing her eleventh year. She held her back, burying herself into her arms, the fog now encasing their rundown shack, the cold coming in through the open windows.

“Promise me something, my darling,” she said and she looked up to her mother, waiting. “Promise me you won’t go to the road, no matter what.”

“…I promise,” she whispered and her mother held her tight, shuffling to sit on the bed as she started to hum again, rocking her in her arms. She closed her eyes, crossing her fingers as she did as she silently asked the divines to forgive her. She wanted to see the road, one day, and make her mother better again.

Her mother hummed from above.

 

\--

 

She stood on the rocks above Falkreath, watching as the dawn crept into the sky, the soft blue hues changing into orange and pinks and she smiled, her breath hanging in the air. It was her favourite thing to see in the morning, such beautiful colors before the rain or fog moved in and she moved, hopping off a rock to go back to the road, jogging lightly to where it split and the road led down to the town.

She shivered as she went down the sharp decline, her cloak being pulled around her and she slid a bit on the stones before breaking into a run, her cheeks rosy as she tried not to fall, waving to the guard who stood at the gate.

“Good morning,” she said as quiet as she could as she passed and he waved, his eyes smiling from behind his helmet. She jogged down the path, the scent of soil, smoke and flowers filling her lungs and the lavender stalks that lined the Jarl’s Longhouse swayed as she passed. She smiled and slowed down, jumping over the old goat who was sleeping against the fence, her aim to the door leading to the court.

She opened it before she even got on the steps, moving inside quickly and she breathed out in relief as the smouldering fire’s warmth hit her. She loved the smell of the burning coals in the morning. She went and fetched a few logs, tossing them into the hearth to bring the fire back to a roar and she went fetching some mead, pouring two bottles into a pitcher, placing it on the rocks around the fire for it to warm as she made her way to her Jarl’s room.

She peeked inside, seeing nothing in the darkness and she called upon a simple fire spell, moving to light the scones inside. Each one revealed a bit more light in the room and by the time she got to the last one, the small space was fully revealed. Her Jarl was tangled in his blankets, his hair a mess and his crown lopsided on the post of his bed and she smiled, going to his side.

“Siddgeir,” she said softly, touching his arm and he groaned. “It’s nearly dawn. Time to get up.”

“…Fuck off,” he growled, turning over, pulling his blankets with him and she sighed, moving to fetch his clothes. She began laying them out at the foot of his bed, humming a tune she learned from her mother and she ducked as a pillow flew at her. “Will you shut up, you damn elf!?”

“Sorry, my Jarl,” she said, flushing. “But today is the day you go to Solitude. I can’t help but be excited.”

“Why?” he grumbled, slowly leaning up as his weary eyes opened, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion and she stopped fussing with his clothes and went to his side, reaching to massage him. “You’re not coming, you know.”

“I know,” she sighed, rubbing his smooth skin. “But Nenya has been speaking about it for weeks. It’s such an honor for you to be called there by the Jarl!” She moved her hands up, her nails starting to scratch his scalp making him groan and lean back. “It has to be something big if you are personally invited!”

“Unlikely,” he said in a negative tone but when she turned to pull away he grabbed her, putting her hands on his neck and she massaged the tense muscles there, rubbing between his shoulders when he indicated. “For all we know, it’s just another stupid meeting.”

“Don’t think like that,” she smiled and he snorted, looking over his shoulder.

“You’re way too happy in the morning,” he said. “Tone it down.”

She closed her eyes, smiling internally, and she nodded, moving away from him to fetch his clothes. He gave her a look and she placed them beside him before fetching a comb. She brushed his thick hair back, making sure she scratched behind her ears as she did making him nearly purr, his voice low and she slicked it back with oil after he put on his robes, folding his night tunic after.

The last touch was his crown and she polished it on her dress before she moved to stand in front of him, placing it on. He adjusted it but seemed pleased and she smiled at him making him scowl. “You’re such an idiot,” he commented but his hands came to her neck, holding her still as he kissed her. She leaned into him, letting him dominate as he wished before withdrawing.

“Your mead is warming by the fire,” she said and he raised a brow, kissing her roughly before he withdrew.

“Go wake Nenya and Helvard,” he muttered. “Then go take my stuff outside. We’re leaving right away so I can get this over with.”

“Shall I fetch your stallion as well?” she asked and he contemplated it before nipping at her ear making her shudder.

“Aren’t you eager to please this morning,” he growled against her ear and she shivered, “It’s almost making me suspicious. Do you want something?”

“Of course not, my Jarl,” she said softly, her fingers moving to pull his furs more against his neck, gently grazing over his collar for a moment before she dipped down, dragging her nails over his stomach. “I just want you to have a pleasant trip.”

He growled in lust and grabbed her throat, not hard but enough to remind her of who she was dealing with and she flushed, parting her lips. He took her invitation, biting her lower lip, making sure she was panting when he finished. “Go wake Nenya and Helvard. I’ll deal with you when I get back, you little minx.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said, gasping as he let go of her and she moved, heading back out into the hall, her cheeks flushed as she did. Nenya was already awake when she went to her room, her small chest packed immaculately and her riding dress hugging her body making her look youthful and aloof while Helvard got up only when she had to resort to clapping two pots together.

The party riding to Solitude eventually made it outside and Siddgeir checked his black stallion over before he mounted, displeased with the horse as he did. “This is the last time I’m riding this beast,” he commented making Nenya glare at him. “He’s getting too old! He needs to be shipped off or traded for a younger one!”

“Siddgeir, that horse cost you a fortune to begin with,” Nenya protested as Kjersti came to the poor stallion’s side, adjusting the halter so it fit properly, her hand stroking its cheek. “I told you years ago to let it sire some colts and you refused!”

He snorted. “I don’t want this thing’s heirs. This horse isn’t a champion,” he snapped and Nenya groaned, moving to the horse that was provided for her, the brown mare docile and gentle. “Maven has bred some champions. Send word to her I need a new horse.”

“Siddgeir, we don’t have the money!”

He looked down at Kjersti. “Thane? Be a dear and fetch some money for the coffers.”

“Siddgeir, stop manipulating her!” Nenya spat before she stopped herself, rubbing her temples and muttering under her breath. Kjersti couldn’t help but smile and she bowed to her Jarl.

“I’ll try and bring in some things for the treasury while you’re gone.”

“Good,” he said, snapping the reins and his stallion shook its head, waiting for the command as Helvard mounted his old steed, the small cart strapped to its sides weighed down with the luggage they were to take. Several soldiers came to form a line, silent as they held up the flags of Falkreath, swords and daggers strapped to their side and Kjersti gave them a deep bow.

Her Jarl sighed. “Move out!” he shouted, the line of soldiers shifting in unison and his horse fell in line behind them, Nenya moving to his side while Helvard and four more soldiers took up the rear. The townsfolk didn’t see them off, only Thadgeir stopping his daily task to stand aside and she waved at them from behind as they left through the western gate, her heart a little sore as she wouldn’t see her Jarl for more than a week.

Still, she planned to make good on her offer and she went back to her manor, spending some time at her forge crafting blades for the treasury, the steel she created sharp and glossy under the candlelight. 

She spent her time at her manor creating things, Rayya helping her with inscriptions on the blades and rings before she hauled them off to enchant them, her skill in the area increasing. Her finest work came in the form of an elven battleaxe that was fused with the ability to drain one’s life force, the red magic shining against the dull gold. She named it the Life Eater, Rayya blessing it with its first taste of power against a wolf and she took the items to the barracks of Falkreath, stocking the treasury up.

The Legate had to comment when she entered the Longhouse after. “Heard you’ve crafted some fine blades, Kjersti,” he said from the wine cellar, the book in his hand dog-eared and worn. She smiled at him.

“I’ve still got a lot to learn,” she admitted and he nodded in respect. She gave him a courtesy before leaving with a bubbling feeling in her chest. The rest of her days were spent properly stocking the coffers as bandits took refuge in a few areas of the hold, her magic finding them to destroy them, their locked chests and barrels filled with welcome tribute.

On the day her Jarl was to return she made herself presentable, finding a dress of green and black to highlight her features, her robes folded and placed on her bed. She went to Falkreath early, just as dawn was breaking, the sun shining through the clouds and trees and she went to stand outside the Longhouse, glowing as she did.

They didn’t come back until the afternoon. She heard the hooves on the stones before she saw them, a wild whinny sending her gaze up from the flower she was picking apart.

Her Jarl rode recklessly through the town, his steed no longer a black stallion but a grey and white speckled terror, the beast looking as if it was caught to be saddled the day it turned a year. It tossed its head, stamped the ground and her Jarl effortlessly descended from it, Nenya’s panting horse coming from behind with Helvard at the rear. The soldiers came after, all looking exhausted from running to keep up and her Jarl was silent as he tossed the reins at one of them, the young horse snorting and snapping, untamed. The soldier grabbed the lead but looked unhappy about it.

Kjersti stepped forth. “Siddgeir!” she said in a light tone and he didn’t look to her, his eyes on the cart that Helvard had attached to his horse. He looked into it, muttering something to his housecarl before he walked with his eyes on the door. She tried again. “Siddgeir, welcome back!”

He shoved past her without a word making her stumble and she stared at him in confusion. Nenya got off her horse, giving the lead to a soldier before she followed him in, quiet, with Helvard moving behind and she blinked as they disappeared inside. She followed after, worried.

“Did something happen?” she asked but they didn’t answer, Nenya ascending the stairs to her room while Helvard went into the wine cellar. Her Jarl merely took his throne, falling down on it with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. She approached, fidgeting. “My Jarl? Is something-?”

“Go home!” he said abruptly and she froze, taken back by his tone. “You’re dismissed from the court for now so leave!”

She remained motionless in her place before bowing slightly and doing as he said. When she closed the door behind her she leaned on it, thinking to his words. He must have been tired from his journey and she took his anger for exhaustion, moving to leave for the day. After all, he had just ridden from Solitude.

She would come back in the morning when his mood was better.

\--

He was acting differently and it was starting to worry her. Ever since he came back, he refused to talk to her in anything but clipped words, his mood always sour and he kept sending her on missions that led to nothing. He asked her to clear out Bonechill Pass despite there being nothing there to eradicate and sent her hunting dragons which she could barely hit let alone kill.

She still did as he asked, however, returning each day which aggravated him more and she finally decided to question him on it when she was sent away by Nenya, of all people.

“We need your help in killing the Giant’s at Secunda’s Kiss,” she said abruptly and Kjersti stared at her but sighed.

“Alright, is there any specific-?”

“No,” she cut in. “Just, take your time but it needs to be done right away.”

She stared at her, confused by her words but the Steward ushered her out, shutting the door behind her making her frown. She had no idea what had gotten into them all and she descended the steps, thinking to an explanation. Maybe something happened to them during their trip and they were biding their time to tell her. Or maybe she was over thinking.

She went to the General Store to stock up on potions, being shoved to the side as Bolund exited making her frown and from the counter, Salof sighed. “I apologize for my brother, Kjersti. He’s…”

“I know,” she said quietly, brushing it off. She really didn’t like Bolund and she knew the feeling was mutual. She had to be pleasant to him, however, as Siddgeir did have him employed running the mill. Didn’t mean she had to like him though. “Do you have any spell tomes in stock? Or healing potions?”

He shook his head. “Just the tomes you’ve seen before. Why don’t you try Zaria? I’m sure she’d be more help.”

She frowned. “Zaria isn’t home. I tried her a few times but she never answers and the store has been closed for days. I assume she’s out foraging again… but I do worry.”

Salof smiled at her and he leaned on the counter. “I’m sure she’s fine. She doesn’t look like it, but that girl can pull a punch. I’ve seen her knock out an Orc traveller in the Inn once with her bare fists. She didn’t even bat an eye over it either.” Kjersti chuckled at the thought. “But I’m afraid I don’t have anything. A shipment is supposed to come in today but not until late.”

“It’s alright,” she gave him a small courtesy. “Thank you anyways, Salof.”

“Any time,” he waved and she left, moving down the road to the east. She’d have to go home and possibly create her own potions but they were always weaker than what the general store got in stock. She had never faced a giant and wasn’t particularly relishing the thought of having to kill one for her Jarl when a trumpeting sound drew her gaze up.

She stopped, turning to look behind her at the western gate, the sounds of horse’s hooves rapidly meeting the stones coming and she yelped as she was nearly blown over, a stampede of stallions breaking through causing Salof to run out and the doors to the Inn to open.

The horses were all beige, their hair braided and their saddles of expensive make and they moved in a sharp line, all protecting a white steed between them as they stopped in front of the Longhouse, the men in red gear dismounting. The door to the Longhouse opened, Siddgeir staring out in bewilderment and Kjersti stiffened.

She heard Salof behind her. “Kjersti, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted but she rushed down the wooden walkway to get closer, not trusting these men now. One took a step forward, unfurling a scroll and he held his head high.

“Presenting Lady Brynhilda of Solitude!” he shouted and Kjersti stopped by Lod’s forge, frowning. The blacksmith was watching from his grindstone, confused, a blade still in his hand and the rest of the townsfolk began to gather round, watching the spectacle. Siddgeir stiffened and slowly came out, Nenya behind him with Helvard following. The three waited as the cloaked figure on top the white steed was helped down and they came forward, holding a hand out for the Jarl to take. He gently took it, their bodies close and Kjersti stared, speechless. Why didn’t anyone inform her they had a visitor?

She hiked up her robes as she quickly descended the stairs and she came towards them, her eyes on the stranger who was hidden by her hood. As she came closer she saw her features were feminine and her men reacted to her coming, unsheathing their weapons, moving forth.

“Halt!” they snapped and she stopped as a sword was shoved at her throat. “No one approaches the Lady without invitation!”

Her Jarl turned, his green eyes harsh and full of fury as he stared at her and she bit her lip. He never looked at her like that. Nenya turned, all eyes around them moving to look as well and the woman in the cloak tilted her head as she became the center of attention. The woman reached out, touching her soldier’s arm and he gaped at her as she made him lower his weapon. “My lady!”

“William, don’t be so hasty,” she said, her voice light and pleasant making Kjersti flush a bit. “We’ve just arrived! She’s obviously someone from this town, not an assassin! You shouldn’t be so paranoid.” He grumbled but obeyed and the woman smiled at her apologetically. “Please forgive my soldiers. They’ve had a long trip.”

She said nothing, her eyes moving to her Jarl’s who were still as cold as ice and she fidgeted, awkward. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware we were expecting visitors today,” she said diplomatically and she caught Nenya making a motion from the corner of her eye. She was shaking her head as if she should silence herself. Now she was really confused and the woman in the cloak looked to Siddgeir, confused herself.

“Is she a part of the court?” she asked and Siddgeir looked to her, his jaw tight.

“She’s just my stupid Thane,” he snapped. “Too nosy for her own good.”

Kjersti frowned at him but she didn’t have long to keep her expression as the woman clapped her hands together, almost in excitement. “Oh, a Thane! I wasn’t aware Falkreath had one!” she turned on her and Kjersti blinked in shock. “How good to meet you!”

She came forward and Kjersti stepped back, wary. The woman picked up on it, giving her another apologetic smile and she couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s going on?” she asked, bluntly. “Who are you?”

She could see her Jarl tense, angry, and behind him Nenya pursed her lips, a tension rising over them but the woman in front of her merely changed from giving her a sorry smile to one of kindness and loving. It made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself better,” she said, her voice confident yet soft. “I am Lady Brynhilda, Jarl Siddgeir’s fiancée.” 

Her entire body went stiff and she stopped breathing for a second. The woman didn’t seem to notice. “We have been betrothed by the court in Solitude. I know it’s very sudden but I hope you and the townsfolk can accept me. I promise to try and do well out here.”

She still didn’t speak, her body in a state of shock.

Fiancée. 

She felt as if she was going to pass out and the woman began to frown. “I-Is something wrong?”

Her eye caught her Jarl’s, how angry he looked as if he wanted her – his Thane for more than a year – to disappear and she broke their gaze, breathing again, her emotions threatening to cascade over her. She tried to pull herself together.

“N-No, I… It’s just a shock. I-I wish I knew earlier,” she babbled, her voice light and not her own. “I would have got you a gift! F-For your betrothal! M-My apologies!”

The woman relaxed. “Oh, no, please. This is my fault, I should have sent word ahead.”

“Brynhilda,” Siddgeir finally said. “You should come inside. We have a lot to discuss.”

She turned to the Jarl, nodding in agreement and she took Kjersti’s cold hands, squeezing making her stiffen. “Forgive me. May we speak later? I would very much like to know more about our Thane!”

“Y-Yeah,” she said absently and the woman let go of her, sweeping to her Jarl’s side to join him as he started ushering her in. He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes dark and he disappeared inside along with Helvard and the legion of soldiers. Only Nenya remained outside giving Kjersti a look but she wouldn’t have it.

She took in a sharp breath, her lungs stinging and turned, moving down the stones past the barracks to go to the eastern gate, no longer in view of the townsfolk who were now starting to mutter to each other. Nenya chased after her. “Kjserti, wait!”

“S-Sorry Nenya, I have to go!” she said in that same light voice that didn’t resemble her. “T-There’s a giant I need to kill… and a gift…”

Nenya caught her arm, trying to stop her. “Kjersti, I’m sorry! We couldn’t tell you! It all happened so suddenly in Solitude and Siddgeir-”

“It’s fine,” she cut her off with a lie, still moving to the gate. “It’s fine! I-I need to go. You did say that giant…”

“Kjersti, stop,” Nenya said, her grip on her wrist tightening. “I know you’re upset-”

“I’m not. I’m okay. See? I need to go! The giant-”

“Kjersti!” Nenya pleaded and she finally stopped but didn’t turn to see her, her emotions still tumbling in her chest. “I tried to warn you. We all did.”

She didn’t understand. “Warn me?”

“Siddgeir was never going to be with you,” she said in a soft voice but it came out harsh to her ears. Her chest tightened, her eyes becoming glossy and she ripped her wrist away, holding it. Nenya didn’t make a move to grab her back. “You knew this day was coming. He needs Nord heirs to take the throne and you’re…”

“I need to go,” she cut in. “To Secunda’s Kiss. I have a duty, as Thane. You said yourself it needs to be done.”

Nenya didn’t say anything more and she was allowed to leave, hiking her robes up as she took the strong incline, not looking back as she did. 

She made it to Pinewatch before she began to sob uncontrollably. It caused her to stop, her chest burning as she heaved for breath and she ended up moving off the road to sit under a large cedar, her body shaking as she cried.

Even after her eyes became weary she still continued to dry heave, exhausted and broken. She had to use the tree as leverage to get up and she stumbled home to her manor, her face a mess as she did.

Rayya took one look at her before she hauled her inside, forcing a cloth against her nose as she started sobbing again, her fingers shaking. “My Thane? What’s happened?”

She heaved. “…S…Siddgeir’s… betrothed…” was all she could cough out and her housecarl gave her a look of pity. She sighed and went to the kitchen.

“I’ll make some tea,” was all she said and Kjersti continued to cry, burying her face in her arms. By the time she had the strength to drink, the tea was cold and bitter making her cough. Rayya said nothing from her spot opposite of her, her eyes on the fire and she tapped her fingers on the table.

“Do you feel better, my Thane?”

Her bottom lip shook. “No.”

Rayya sighed. “I must get back to my duties. If you’ll excuse me,” she said, leaving and Kjersti sat alone, her shoulders still shaking erratically every few seconds. She ended up going to bed, stripping down to her undergarments as she buried herself under her blankets. 

She didn’t sleep for days.

\--

She wanted to hate her, she really did and she acted as cold as she could but the more she was forced to interact with the woman, the more she knew she was being unreasonable. Brynhilda was wonderful refined Nord.

She was graceful as she moved about the Longhouse, her golden hair tied in a bow at the back giving her a youthful, generous look. Her skin was fair, her clothes expensive but she dressed modestly and she seemed to ease into the life of Falkreath without an incident, her enthusiasm for the countryside contagious as she went out into the town. She was kind to the townsfolk, Bolund taking a liking to her right away and genuinely was interested in them and their lives, her personality bright which counteracted Siddgeir’s moodiness.

Kjersti said nothing over it, watching from her place by the fire or door when she was called in. Though she was still a part of the court, she felt out of place as the new woman moved in. Her Jarl was still moody, not speaking to her but he softened considerably around his fiancée making her heart ache. Even Nenya warmed immediately to the new addition but her glances at her were always out of pity or judgement.

She knew she was the one imposing and after she went to fetch some supplies, carefully packing it away in the cellar where the Legate stood watching her with sadness, she approached her Jarl and his new lover.

She bowed deep making them look. “My Jarl,” she started, thinking hard about her decision. “I am about to leave to refill the coffers. Do you need anything?”

He was tense as he looked down at her and she didn’t insult him by looking up. He waved her off. “No. Just go.”

She was about to leave when Brynhilda spoke. “Wait, Siddgeir. Maybe…? Maybe she can fetch something?” she said and he looked to her making Kjersti purse her lips. “The rings?”

Her heart plummeted. Rings? Her Jarl sighed and looked back down at her. “I suppose. Thane, get two rings of the finest make while you’re out. I won’t take anything less than emerald.”

“Oh, no, Siddgeir, it can just be plain gold. Please,” Brynhila stressed. “And only if you can, dear Thane. It’s not a requirement.”

She nodded. “I-Is that all?” her voice broke a bit and her Jarl said nothing for a moment, his hand taking his fiancée’s.

“No. You’re dismissed.”

She bowed deep again and got up, not looking to them as she left. She felt the court’s eyes on her, Nenya watching as she opened the door but she brushed it off, knowing this was for the better. Her jealousy over the situation was pathetic and she could no longer continue.

She rushed out of the small town, puffing as she went up the strong incline and she made her way back home, hiking up her robes as she did. Rayya was patrolling the territory and she gave her a look as she came back, still not used to seeing her during the day. She didn’t say anything, going into the manor and she went to fetch some items, grabbing a knapsack to fill.

It made her stop. How much should she pack? How long was she going to be gone? Was she ever going to come back? She frowned, holding the knapsack tight before she ignored her thoughts, moving around her house to put potions, ingredients and scrolls into the small sack, the pouches bulging when she was done.

She left from the deck facing the lake, not wanting to explain herself to her housecarl. She did care for her but she had a feeling the look she would get would be the same as the court’s. Pity with a mixture of disappointment. She just needed to go.

She left, jumping down from the small jutted rocks underneath her manor, coming out to the road and she quickly jogged to get a start, following the road blindly as she did. She didn’t have a destination, only a drive in her to leave and she travelled along until she came to a crossroad. One way went to Helgen, to the destroyed town she had escaped from while the other went to Riverwood and from there, Whiterun. She knew Falkreath well, that if she went to Helgen she could go up and to the Rift but somehow she wasn’t compelled to go that way.

She barely knew about Whiterun other than there was a large city that lay in the plains, the Jarl who ruled over it occupying a place called Dragonsreach and she shouldered her pack, deciding to go to Riverwood first. From there she would determine her plan of action and was quiet as she thought. She would cross out of Falkreath along the way and she bit her lip.

She recalled long ago she thirsted for adventure but now with the prospect of exploring, of leaving her adopted home was now daunting. She was frightened.

She stood on the road looking to the mountains. It was selfish of her but she closed her eyes, clasping her hands together to make a prayer; she asked for things to be back to the way they were. Her comfort and place in Falkreath and her life. She opened her eyes, finding herself still on the road and she quietly chastised herself for her childish thinking. She knew this was going to happen one day as no Jarl or province in Skyrim would ever allow a race that wasn’t a Nord to rule.

She pulled her hair back and tugged up her hood, beginning her journey. She was a selfish girl.

\--

Along the way, she met something peculiar. She had spent a night outside of Riverwood, selling a few items from her knapsack to garner some coin but it wasn’t much. After she set off in the morning, allowed to take a cabbage from the cart, she found herself following the road to near the brewery, another split making her choose to go towards Windhelm. She wasn’t an Imperial so she guessed she should be fine with her choice but along the way she met a strange pair.

A Thalmor Agent with sharp eyes and a cruel grin who was walking alongside a young Nord with rosy cheeks. She recognized the Nord, giving her a bow as she was the dragonborn – a legend even to Cyrodiil – and the girl grinned at her, her blade shining with blood.

Hours later she found the source. A ruined tower was covered in bodies, blood spilled on every surface around them to signify the carnage and she stared, a bit horrified. She wanted to doubt it was all done by a single girl but she wasn’t stupid. The dragonborn was powerful and it made her wonder more on why there was a Thalmor Agent with them. 

She knew it was wrong but she checked the corpse’s pockets for gold only to find them picked over. She left, the sun high in the sky and she was now looking for a place to sleep during the night, her stomach rumbling in hunger. She ate a piece of bread as she searched, the sulfur marshes to the east of her uninviting as strange noises called out from their depths.

She ended up going back to the tower filled with bodies, finding a bed on the other side that was untouched. She slept, though paranoid, and the cold crept over her skin for the first time in years making her recall her days with her mother in their decrepit home. How she had gotten too accustomed to straw beds and fine woven blankets.

She thought of Brynhilda sharing Siddgeir’s bed and she soured, tugging the furs over her. It wasn’t fair. She had loved him first, she had been loyal to him for over a year, let him bed her, let him control her and now she was sleeping alone on the outskirts of Whiterun while a noblewoman he had known less than a week was marrying him.

She buried her face into the pillow, letting out a noise of frustration. She would get a ring for them but only one and inscribed to her Jarl. His fiancée could buy her own. She wasn’t going to indulge her selfish wish.

 

\------

 

The College of Winterhold was beyond magnificent. Her eyes locked on the beautiful faraway structure, the lights that came from it making her eyes sparkle and she wrung her hands on her dress, nervous. If there was ever a place in the world that looked like she could belong, this was it. She had seen the mages at the inn buying drinks and their robes were intricate and clean, the books they carried making her envious and the spells they cast beautiful.

She wished desperately to join them.

Magelights danced in the air after them and when two patrons broke out in a fight in the Inn, a casting of the spell of calm made them stop, both apologizing to each other while the mages grinned at each other and tapped their tankards together.

She was envious of their closeness, of their power and she followed them out. The small group headed up the ramp at the edge of the town, disappearing for a moment under an arch but slowly they came back into view, walking in a single line as they went back to the campus which welcomed them. She wanted to follow further but there was a harsh Altmer standing at the entrance, her red hair vibrant and her features almost Bosmer making her stop.

Kjersti stared, curious as a Khajiit cub but she didn’t go forth. Her nerves prevented her and she returned to the inn, paying for a room for her to hide in, her dreams that night about the life she would have if she joined. She was still bound to her Jarl so the prospect was far-fetched but she still wondered in earnest. Their robes were so pretty while hers were so plain.

\--

She sat on a rock at the edge of the Pale, her cloak pulled around her tight as she tried to eat her meagre piece of bread and cheese, her fingers hurting from the cold. She was absolutely miserable, her body freezing, her food hard and her mind went to thinking of Falkreath.

Slowly a tear slid down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away, reminding herself it was her fault in the first place. If she didn’t fall for such a jerk, she would never have been forced to leave.

“Stupid jerk,” she said to the air, more tears falling down her face, stinging her cheeks and she rubbed her eyes with her forearm. “He doesn’t even deserve my thoughts!” she cried out childishly.

She chewed her bread hastily, pushing the cheese into her mouth as well and she angrily ate as the tears kept falling from her eyes. She was an Altmer, by all rights. She was, as she heard, above all men and other mer, her blood superior and her breed flawless.

Yet she could stop crying over a single man. She pushed her palms against her eyes, willing them to stop but a sob caught in her throat. She missed her home. She missed him. She shook her head violently, her head becoming light as she cried and she wiped at her nose, her vision blinded now by her tears. She loved him so much it hurt. The thought of him being so happy with another woman made her choke and she finally relented, breaking into uncontrollable sobs.

She knew it was her fault for falling for him. She was going to outlive him anyways. She should have other goals, a life separate from him but her heart ached and her soul burned. Despite all it, she wanted to be with him while he still lived. She wanted to father his children, to wake up in bed next to him, to wear his ring.

She cried until her fingers froze, her heart and body becoming heavy as the snow storm rolled in. She had to go find a place for the night but out near the glaciers, the chances of finding shelter were thin. She contemplated just throwing herself into the Sea of Ghosts, to freeze with the ice flows but she knew that was stupid. Her emotions were making her irrational. She packed up her things, shaking as she walked and she sought refuge from the storm. A small cave provided some coverage and she pulled out her bedroll, sliding into it fully clothed, shaking under the furs.

She didn’t sleep during the night, her mind too weary of heartache and the air too cold to let her be comfortable. She got up at dawn, struggling to roll her bed up and she staggered out to catch sight of the morning. The sky was lit with orange, purple, and pink and she stopped, in awe of the colors.

She had to move on. No. She had to move forward. He had and she had to as well.

\--

It came out of nowhere and she was taken off guard. That’s how it slashed her face, her chest being caught as well and she shrieked, tumbling back. Blood spilled from the wounds, the sabre cat not relenting and she called upon every spell she knew, fire consuming the beast as it made another turn, its body crumpling and falling into a heap before her. She shook, adrenaline filling her and she realized how badly she was bleeding when blood started filling her mouth and staining the front of her robes.

She grabbed her pack, her bloody hands frantic as she searched for a potion but she couldn’t find any making her panic. She struggled to call on a healing spell, her mind in over drive as she did and the soothing healing winds only closed the wounds. They didn’t seal them properly and she was left with ugly scars on her face and chest.

She sat on the plains, quiet, constantly touching where her skin now dipped, the scratch so close to her eye she was surprised she wasn’t blind.

She found a potion and drank but the scars remained and she sat in shock. She realized she had to accept it; her fault, her complacence did this. She wondered if her Jarl would react if he saw her. Would he rush to her side or care? Her fingers stroked the marks on her chest and she bit her lip.

It didn’t matter. She was already homely enough. Maybe, if she was lucky, the scars would enhance her features. Make her look more rugged or menacing.

She got a look of fright when she met a traveller on the road and it made her pull her hood around her face, self-conscious. She didn’t consider that option.

\--

Silverdrift Lair. She had been drawn to it by rumors in the city, tales of a great weapon being hid there, one that would no doubt stuff the Falkreath coffers and she set out in the night to retrieve it before anyone else, her spirits high until she came across it.

It was her first real tomb, one filled with dragur and freshly slaughtered men which fuelled her fear. She didn’t understand Nordic puzzles but she was grateful for the nooks the tomb had. She used them immediately to stay hidden while the dead ran looking for her, their sinewy skin pulled tight as they made foreign noises, mocking her she assumed. She was a frightened Altmer in an enclosed tomb made for the Nords. Of course she was worth insulting, even to the dead.

But she pushed on, her shaking hands and knees not deterring her thirst to gain something for the treasury and along the way, she began to learn. Fire seemed to bring them down the best and certain things on the ground should not be stepped on otherwise a trap would be unleashed. She learned from the markings by watching the dragur accidentally step on them in their mad dash to get her, their mistake costing them their ability to still be alive and she thanked the gods for it.

Slowly she made her way through the tomb, more dead bandits appearing as she travelled and she began to pick up items along the way. There was no sense in leaving some things such as iron maces which could fill the armory or books which could be sold. Chests provided the most help as they sometimes contained a few meagre coins but she was grateful for it all.

Her end came in the form of two iron doors and she opened them, hoping to find a reward but what greeted her was worse. It was unlike any dragur she had come across as this one was powerful and had the voice of a dragon. It knocked her to her feet, its axe shining in its hands and she screamed as she fought for her life. She used up all her magic hitting it, the demon still coming at her and she resorted to running and ducking into a nook, ripping into her bag for potions. It hurt, drinking them down so fast but she couldn’t afford to be slow as her time was limited.

She emerged, hitting it again, using both hands after a time and the demon let out a shout which knocked her back. She collapsed on the bloody steps before a strange wall, her breath coming out ragged as the thing advanced when a wall of fire hit it making it screech.

It crumpled and she was left alone, the tomb quiet save for the fire cascading from jets under the floor. A Nordic trap saved her. She almost began to cry, her fingers shaking as she moved to leave, never wanting to set foot in a tomb again. She staggered past the iron doors on the opposite side, her hands on the wall as she walked like a lame cow and the chest that was illuminated at the end made her breathe in relief. That was what she came for.

She recovered the so called powerful weapon. It was an enchanted iron warhammer, nothing more. She cursed herself and the Nords she had listened to. She could make this item herself! She almost lost her life for it!

She tied it to her bag, shoving whatever else was in the chest with it before slamming the lid down in anger, leaving the tomb through an alternate door. She marched to Winterhold, her hands being shoved under her arms as she did and she entered the small shop when she got there, the woman behind the counter looking up.

“Welcome,” she said but she wouldn’t hear it. She dropped the warhammer on the counter making the poor shopkeeper flinch in shock and she emptied out a part of her bag.

“How much for all of this?!” she asked and the shopkeeper stared at the items almost hungrily. Kjersti put her hand down. “I’m willing to take whatever’s fair!”

The woman picked up a few of the things, studying the boots, a mace and an axe before she touched the enchanted weapon. She took her time to think. “I would say one hundred and fifty septims is fair.”

Kjersti stared. “That warhammer alone is worth over two hundred!”

The shopkeeper gave her a dirty look. “You asked what was fair and I’m giving it to you. No trader in their right mind is going to give you full price for an item! We have families to feed as well! So either you take all this back or you accept the deal!”

She stared hard at the woman, her frustrations over the weapon already making her illogical and she threw her hands up, accepting. She was given her coin and she left, looking up to the dark sky. Her eyes went to the glorious college, a beam of blue light coming from the center and she pursed her lips before she went to the inn, giving the happy innkeeper ten septims before she took to a room.

She wasn’t expecting the vivid nightmares she was plagued with during the night but after a long time of staring at the ceiling, her weary mind piecing together what had happened it made sense. She almost died. It scared her more than anything to think her body could have rotted away, forgotten, in some haunted tomb.

She paid for another night, sleeping intermittently during the day. At least the sounds of people outside helped lull her to sleep. It helped to know she wasn’t alone.

\--

She caught a fish outside of Morthal. She yelled out as she did, so proud of herself but there was no one around to congratulate her as she held it by its tail, the body thrashing. She didn’t care. She had caught a fish and she looked at it, hungry, her stomach rumbling when the fish stopped fighting and remained still before her, desperately gasping for water.

She watched it, the triumph in her slowly waning and she found herself staring at the poor thing, how it struggled for life just like she was doing.

She let it go, standing in the creek after it broke away, disappearing into the murky water and she wiped her nose, her robes soaked and her muscles suddenly weary. She was so tired and hungry but killing an innocent thing to sustain her seemed wrong.

She bit her lip and turned, grabbing her gear as she walked away.

\--

She had made camp one night on the plains of Whiterun, the small sticks she had foraged fueling the fire and she ate a small handful of berries as she did, watching the flames without a thought in her head. Her eyes were locked on the dancing fire, her own mind slowly tinkering with how she could achieve such fluid movement when a rustling drew her up.

A man was coming towards her and she stood, readying her hands.

“Evening, traveller!” a voice called, friendly and warm and she found herself hesitating. The man came forward, a lute to his back and she stared at him, confused. “Oh, sorry. I don’t mean to intrude. I just saw a light and thought I would check it out! You don’t see many fires near the road.”

She flushed, embarrassed. “I-It was the only place I could find.”

“That’s fine,” he smiled, giving her a warm look. She hesitated but sat down, her relaxed figure allowing him to come forth. “My name is Talsgar the Wanderer. And who, my dear lady, might you be?”

She thought about it for a while. “Just a vagabond,” she came up with. “No one worth stealing from.”

He let out a soft laugh. “I’m no thief, my dear. I’m a bard. See?” he pulled out his lute, sitting down near her and she looked at the instrument shining under the light. He pulled a few strings, playing a little tune and she said nothing making him sigh. “I make my living by going around and spreading music. Why should only the Jarls know the joys of music?” he asked and her heart stung. “Do you have any requests, my lady? A few septims is all it takes!”

“Do you know any songs of heartache?” she said a bit bitterly and he looked at her before laughing. She was taken back by it but didn’t say anything.

“Dear me, my lady, songs of love and heartache are as plenty as there are fish in the sea!” he chuckled and she flushed. “It’s only natural. Humans and emotions are always in a duel. One minute, you couldn’t be happier and the next-! You wish you were dead!”

He laughed again and she gave a small smile, embarrassed again. Of course others felt heartache and forlornness. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. She was just the only one in Skyrim – nay, Tamriel – who didn’t know how to deal with it.

He plucked at the strings of his lute, the sound pleasant and she drew her knees up, resting her chin on them, watching the fire again silent. She remained that way for a while despite her weariness. He remained close, seeming to not be tired at all.

When it was apparent she wasn’t going to request he sighed and tied his lute around his back, giving her a look. She maintained her eye contact with the fire, quiet and he stood up, brushing off his trousers before he reached into his pocket. He came to her side and offered her a flower and she stared at it for a while before taking it, holding it gently in her hands.

“I hope, dear lady, you are not troubled with emotions. I would like to see you smile but I will not impose so I will go. If you catch me again, ask for a tune. I will gladly give it to you.”

She flushed. “Thank you,” she said and he left leaving her alone with her fire again, her thoughts confused before they went blank. She watched the flames, twirling the flower absently between her fingers before she got up and crawled into her bedroll. She slept another restless night.

\--

She stood on the top of a cliff looking down to the world below her. She held up her map, the letters on it foreign but the pictures helped her gauge where she was. The innkeeper at Ivarstead kindly pointed her towards Eastmarch where some bandits were bothering folks deep in the sulfur marshes, promises of treasure to be taken from them high in her mind but his directions led her down a goat path and she found herself lost.

Still, from where she was she could see far out, steam rising from below near bright pools and she folded up the map, placing it carefully in her pack. Her hair fell down and she struggled to force it back into her hood. It had grown significantly since she had left, the black strands becoming thicker and harder to maintain and she wished she had asked her old housecarl how to keep it from being so bothersome.

She had once considered chopping it off with a knife but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it. When she touched her hair she thought to how her mother used to stroke it, humming as she did and it always made her chest tighten. She missed her and didn’t want to part with something that made her so vividly recall her memory.

She shouldered her pack, standing tall and she looked down, the rocks jagged below. There was something inside her that wanted to jump, to bounce on the stones like the mountain goats did but she reminded herself she wasn’t a child nor did she have enough healing potions to do so. She retreated, walking along the edge to find another way and she came across an old deer path that cut down into soft earth.

She followed it, using trees to break her fall and slowly she started to descend from the Rift to Eastmarch, her hands becoming red from how tightly she gripped the branches.

She reached the new land by twilight and from there she began to explore, not wanting to sleep. Along the way, she found a ring of emerald and gold. It was sitting in the water of a sulfur pool, having fallen out of a satchel of a traveller. She scooped it up, holding it tight and she thought of her Jarl. The ring he had wanted. She smiled to herself, emptying a pocket in her knapsack to tuck it inside.

She remembered Brynhilda and her face fell. She ignored it. She got gifts for her Jarl all the time before her, why should she stop now?

Still, the ring seemed to add a weight to her that she hated to carry. Her guilt chewed her up inside.

\--

There was one night where she considered going back and pretending like nothing had happened but she knew she was being stupid. She paced in the room she had rented at the Sleeping Giant, her nerves frayed and her stomach empty from the lack of food she had consumed over the week.

She wanted to see him, badly. She wanted him to bed her, to dominate her like they both liked, for him to hiss into her ear while he came and bite her neck and just remind her that he owned her. She fell on the bed, burying her face into the pillow before she got up, pacing more.

Maybe she should let the bard come into her room. He had been giving her looks and she wasn’t opposed to them – as long as she could call out another man’s name while they did it – oh gods above and daedra below, what was wrong with her?! She was going crazy. It had been far too long, she didn’t even know anymore, and she ached for her life back. She had been in too many stinking caves, went without food for days and when she drank mead she was instantly knocked out finding herself waking up in strange temples or on the road.

She went and laid on her bed again, growling at herself. What was wrong with her? There was a knock and she looked up, feeling weary now.

“Come in,” she said and the door opened, the innkeeper coming in.

“Excuse me, miss, but you said you were a traveller?” he asked and she leaned up, wary. He held up a piece of paper and she tilted her head in confusion. “The Jarl’s men stopped by with a bounty. Thought you would be interested.”

“Thank you,” she said and he came to leave her the paper. She sighed, folding it up to be used as kindling in her next fire before she flopped back down on the bed. Maybe she should get drunk. That might clear her head.

\--

She looked up at the sky, quiet. There were grey clouds as far as the eye could see, a rain storm threatening to move in and she pursed her lips looking back to the gates of Falkreath, hesitating once again. She had been standing at the western gates for more than an hour, her nerves preventing her from entering and she silently reminded herself if she did not go, she might as well leave and never return.

She finally stepped forward and her feet timidly took her along, her entire body stiff as she did. The guard at the gate looked at her before looking out and she realized he didn’t recognize her as his face was not friendly and his eyes cold to her. Had she been gone that long?

She continued on, not seeing Thadgeir by the block and the small town was quiet, not even Lod was outside. She began to worry, the sound of thunder rumbling from above and she went to the longhouse, climbing the stairs before she opened the door.

Inside it smelled of lavender and smoke and she was taken aback by the smells. It was foreign to her, unappealing and she found herself standing at the door, staring at the alien court before her. She no longer belonged there.

There was no one on the throne and she felt herself hesitate, wondering if she had missed the entire town evacuating or something when the Jarl strode out from his bedroom, stopping to look behind him. Out came a woman with a protruding belly and Kjersti’s breath caught in her throat.

The Jarl took the woman’s hand, leading her to a chair by the fire and she waved him off. “My love, I’m fine.”

“Are you?” he said in his typical prickly voice and she stared at them, stunned. “If anything happens to you and the baby…”

“What could happen from the room to here?” she said in a light voice and the steward emerged from the bedroom with a blanket, slinging it over the back. “Oh, Nenya, please! Your fussing is making me feel bad!”

“Nonsense,” she said and Kjersti looked away, her throat tight. It was a mistake for her to return, her heart pounding hard in her chest, her head swimming and she reached for the door, pulling the handle when the Jarl’s wife called out. “Traveller? Traveller, do not leave! Have you been helped?”

She clutched the door handle, not turning and she watched as rain started to dot the stones, the weather finally coming down. She could flee out into it and never return or pay her respects as she was supposed to. She shut the door, reminding herself of her duties, how foolish she was being and she hung her head down as she turned back, slowly approaching the little crowd.

She made she they couldn’t see her face and she pulled off her knapsack, reaching in to pluck out a bag of coins. She placed it delicately on the stones and bowed, moving to leave but the voice called out again.

“Wait! Traveller!” his wife said, confused. “Siddgeir-!?”

“Stop,” was all he had to say and she stopped dead, not moving. There were sounds of the chair scraping against the floor and muttering and hissing as his wife was obviously getting up. She came to her side and Kjersti maintained her eye contact with the stones.

“Traveller-? What is this? Why do you bring us money without a word?” she asked, bending over a little and the steward came forth, touching Brynhilda’s arm before looking to her. There was an uncomfortable silence and Nenya stepped towards her.

“Kjersti? Is that you?”

She hung her head down more, her throat so tight it was painful and her eyes brimming with tears. “I got to go,” she blurted, rushing to the door but her cloak was grabbed preventing her from leaving. She was pulled back, a strong hand grabbing her wrist and she was forced to turn, her hair spilling out from where she had it tucked as her hood fell down.

She stared into the eyes of her Jarl, her heart moving to her throat, her entire body shaking and he looked at her, disturbed. His eyes were on her scars, the jagged marks on her face and his wife let out a gasp.

“Kjersti?!” she asked, genuinely concerned. She bit her lip hard, nearly drawing blood. “What happened?!”

She snapped her wrist back, staggering away and she said nothing, looking back at the tiles before she pulled her hood over her head.

She had noticed on his finger he had a ring of diamond and gold. The ring of emerald she had found him was paltry in return and she pulled her cloak around her so he could not grab her again.

“Excuse me,” she said and she fled, moving out into the rain. The drops pelted her, her body becoming soaked within minutes and she ran out through the western gate, not looking back as she did. His fiancée – no, she was his wife – was pregnant and diamonds adorned their hands. It was too much for her to bear and she rushed down the road, not seeking shelter even when it began to hail, the chunks of ice bruising her skin.

She ended up taking refuge in the broken watchtower of Falkreath, hyperventilating as she did. It had been more than six months yet she could not compose herself. His wife, his sweet wife was pregnant, they were married and she was the uncomfortable third wheel. Her Jarl’s eyes told her everything, his almost anger at her returning still piercing her heart and she drew her cloak around her as she had her fit.

Six months and she wasn’t over him. She cried out to the gods, spitting on the ground as she did. She was so weak. She shouldn’t have returned, there were other ways to give them money for the treasury and yet she subjugated herself to it. She hit her eyes with her palms, twisting her robes in her hands before she leaned against the stone, her skin cold.

She touched her scars. They dug into her face, marred her nose, cheek, lips and chin. They reflected her pathetic, cowardly personality. She buried her face in her hands.

The time passed slowly and she sat cross-legged in the entrance, watching the rain pour down, the hail stopping after some time. The soft earth turned to mud in front of the ruined steps and she found some loose stones, tossing them out to watch them tumble down the hill, her game boring her after a while.

She rearranged her pack, dug in the barrels near the door to discover them empty and she peeked up top seeing only a ruined shelter where a necromancer once lived. She eradicated them long ago and it looked like no one had found the place to try it again. She contemplated setting up camp and living as a crazy witch, terrorizing anyone who came near. One look at her face and they would flee. She laughed about it for a moment but stopped when she realized people had already run from her.

She felt like a starving half-dog among wolves. She didn’t belong with a pack nor did she do any good on her own. She ended up setting up the fire pit on top of the ruined tower, lighting it under the small remnants of the roof and placing the pot on the stones, filling it with small scraps of food. The rain kept coming down and she stirred her meagre stew, struggling to keep the fire going.

It stopped close to dark allowing her to properly bring the fire to a good height and she sat beside it, using a stick to pick out the large vegetable chunks, some of them still raw when she bit into them. She didn’t care, she was hungry and it was all she had to eat. When she had finished them all she drank the broth, quiet as she did and she slept on the small space where the stones were dry, shivering twice in the night from the cold.

The air was full of fog when she woke and she packed her things, leaving towards the Reach. She felt like a vagabond, like the bard she had met. She wondered if she could be like him, maybe offer her services to folks but she realized she really didn’t have any. She wasn’t trained by the college nor did she have any other skills. She stopped thinking after a while, walking quietly in the fog and she found the road to Whiterun, carefully following it out to the plains.

She fought another sabre cat as soon as she veered off the path.

\--

She stripped off her robes before she moved into the small pool under the waterfall cascading from the jagged rocks of the Reach, shivering before she eased into it, her hands rubbing her shoulders. She sunk down, sneaking to let the water just hit her head and she shouted in delight as she was soaked, the water spilling over her mangy locks in a large shower. She moved back, out of the stream and reached up, smoothing her hair back. She did it a few more times until her hair was as slick as oil and she slowly relaxed, looking at her hands under the water.

Every scar she had acquired seemed to show up on her body and she traced the ones on her arm, moving to count them after a while. She had them on her arms, stomach, chest, face, and legs. She wondered what her back looked like, her hand subconsciously reaching to touch and she found herself staring at her reflection in the water she cupped in her hands.

Though inaccurate, she still got an idea on what people saw when she spoke to them. She flicked the water off her hands, ashamed. She was suddenly filled with embarrassment and she exited the pool, using some rags she picked up to wipe her body down, tugging her robes on after and she grabbed her things, leaving.

\--

“I know you’re in here!” the voice hissed and she remained still by the rock, not daring to breathe. “Just make it easier on yourself and come out!”

She continued to hide, her heart slamming against her ribs as she did, watching the area in front of her as the hag searched her out. After what felt like forever it stopped and lowered its hands, moving back down the rock hallway to where its home was. She crept out of her place, her hands sweaty on the staff she had acquired and she began to go back the way she came, her robes sweeping the ground as she did.

“There you are!” the hag screeched and she screamed, running. Its claws slashed her back, its horrible voice ringing in her ears and she turned, swinging the staff as hard as she could. It made a sickening crack as it hit the hagraven’s head, the beast falling after but she didn’t stick around to see if it was dead. She just ran, breaking out of the cave and rushing down into the wilds, her stomach sick as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

She ended up collapsing, retching by the side of the road as she shook, still filled with fear. The staff was now coated in blood, the wood at the top cracked from the impact and she drew her knees to her chest, crying.

She was still just a child in the world. She shouldn’t be exploring caves so recklessly.

\--

It occurred to her when she was walking over the plains, a light flurry hitting her as she did.

She was a year older.

She stopped, looking at her feet before she continued. Dates meant nothing anyways.

\--

She held the book in her hand, shocked, the cover worn around the edges but otherwise it was brand new. She inspected it, turning it over, waiting to see if it was a fake but nothing indicated it was. She turned to the miner, shocked.

“Y…You really wish me to have this?” she said, skeptical. “W-Why?”

“I ain’t no mage,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’m a blacksmith, and a fine good one at that! But I don’t have any coin to give you for what you’ve done-”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “No, please, I cleared the mines out as an act of kindness. I don’t need pay for it! Frostbite spiders are easy to deal with!” she protested and he stared at her. It made her flush, embarrassed and she held the book back to him but he refused.

“Young lady, those spiders may have been nothing to you but for all of us, they have been a terror for weeks. No one here could take down a single one and yet you went and killed them all! A simple spell tome is paltry payment but it’s the least I can do.” She bit her lip, not convinced and he sighed. “Like I said, none of us here are mages. That tome will sit in a dresser here until the end of time. Its better someone like you gets to use it. You deserve it.”

She looked at the book again, biting her lip. Slowly she opened it, strange drawings on the page and before she could comprehend what they were the book pulled out of her hands and shattered making her shout. Her hands felt warm, a new spell knitting into her head and she winced before she opened her eyes. The burly blacksmith gave her a curious look and she looked to him before calling forth the spell.

A bubble of dark purple formed in her hands and suddenly, they were gone. All of her was gone. She was invisible! The blacksmith made a sound. “By Shor’s bones! She disappeared!”

“I’m here!” she said making him step back, frightened and she stepped forward, her body still gone but once she hit the side of his workbench she became whole again. They looked to each other.

He scratched his head, still wary. “Well, I suppose that could come in handy…”

She nodded but he was now stiff and his welcome and hospitality had disappeared. She was imposing on him now, her new magic obviously making him view her differently and she frowned and fetched her bag, giving him a bow. She ran off before he could say anything else, not wanting him to think she would stay and rob him blind or something. She went south to Riften, moving into the trees to avoid the massive Imperial-owned fort and she stopped by a small creek, pulling her hands out to test her magic again.

It seemed as long as she didn’t touch anything, she could remain invisible. She thought of all the bandit camps she had passed and how useful this would have been a year ago after she set out. It would have saved her a lot of bloodshed but her magic had grown strong from it so maybe it was fate that she didn’t.

She decided to only use the ability when it was absolutely necessary. There was no need to draw further attention to herself.

\--

Her robes were becoming ratty and she finally had to stop and strip, pulling out some string she had saved to try and mend them. 

She didn’t do a very good job and she sighed, tugging them on anyways. She hoped she would come across some new ones soon. The purple her robes once sported was fading and the trim around the edges were frayed. She tugged on her boots and continued her journey.

\--

She stood staring up at the statue of Talos before Windhelm, his figure imposing from the rock he stood on, snow sticking to the chiseled grooves. The wind blowing around her was bitter cold but she didn’t draw her cloak near, her mind focused instead on the god. She didn’t understand the fuss over him. He was just a man.

She went around the rock, deciding to go in for a closer look when she saw movement down the road. A stormcloak patrol. She drew her robes around herself, her head down as she slowly walked and they passed by her without an incident.

She climbed the small hill once she was sure they were gone, keeping her balance on the stone bridge and she stood before the statue, the small shrine below it covered in various items. She looked at the bottles of stamina, some covered in frost and others brand new and she pulled her knapsack off her shoulder, digging within it to pull out a bottle to add to the collection when her fingers slipped. The bottle dropped down and she chased after it, falling to an area below the statue when she screamed at the body she had found below.

There was an axe embedded in the back of a Thalmor Agent, his blood caked on the rocks, his eyes glassy, skin starting to sink and she stumbled, horrified before leaving, not bothering with the bottle. She had to get away.

\--

She had found a bow made of the finest ebony. Leather that had been perfectly grooved was wrapped around the grip, details carved from pearls and ivory adorning the sides and as she held it, her breath stilled. It was beautiful and she dearly wished she was an archer as the weapon was meant to be used, but she wasn’t, her hands only made for magic and she contemplated on what to do.

For the first time in months, she thought of her Jarl. It stung, the thought but she knew the bow would suit him perfectly. It was decadent and strong, much better than his worn glass bow and she sat before the chest for a while, thinking about what to do. She didn’t want to go back to Falkreath – how could she? Her heart burned thinking about it – and she thought about giving it to a courier to take but she knew how easily the poor boys could die along the way.

She would have to take it herself. She gathered up her coins, checking to see how much she had so it wouldn’t look so atrocious with her walking in to give the Jarl a bow and nothing else and she had enough to possibly stock his coffers again. She didn’t know how the treasury was doing but any amount of coin was probably welcome.

She set off, hooking the weapon to her back despite how it slowed her a bit and she stepped out into the morning sun, shielding her eyes as the bright light stung a bit. She was on the edge of Whiterun and she slowly started to make her way to the road, climbing a bit of a hill before she met the stones.

By the time she made it to Falkreath, it was nearing past midnight, the air cold and the sky dark, clouds obstructing any stars in the sky. She stood before the Longhouse knowing everyone inside was sleeping. Everyone in the town was sleeping in fact, save for maybe Valga in the Inn but she wasn’t in the mood to go there and rent a room. She wanted this over as quick as possible and she decided to leave the bow and coin on the throne; an anonymous gift.

She entered the hall, the fire inside still crackling and it had changed once more since she had last been there. There were two thrones now, the hall decorated with new banners, new trophies and there was furniture in the corners, gifts from afar. She slumped, guilty, staring at the lavish things she never thought to get for her Jarl and she slowly walked to the thrones. His and Hers.

She pulled off the bow, gently laying it across the arm of the one on the left before she pulled off her knapsack, quietly reaching in to put out the small bag of coins. She set it down, the bag making a bit of noise and from the bedroom she heard a sound. It was the sigh of a baby and she froze, looking up.

So his wife had the child. She wondered what it was, if it was a boy who would grow up to be handsome like his father or a girl who would become as beautiful as her mother. It didn’t concern her but she waited, not wanting the babe to wake before she threw on her knapsack. She crossed the hall, ready to leave when a voice called to her.

“Kjersti,” it said, cold and she stopped, her heart thrusting into her mouth. It was painful and she felt like she was going to wretch but she didn’t move, her hands turning clammy. Footsteps sounded on the stones but they didn’t come from the bedroom. Her Jarl had been in the wine cellar and she remained still, stiff as a board, as he came to her side.

She could smell the mead on him and she shook as she gave a quick bow. “Excuse me,” she said quietly, not looking at him as she moved to the door but he grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and she was forced to stop. He said nothing but he squeezed hard making her wince and she had to finally turn, her fingers reaching for his to pry them off. He spun her, forcing her to fully face him and her breath hitched as their eyes met, her hair pooling around her neck, the long, jagged strands sweeping down her collar.

He said nothing and she bit her lip. It hurt seeing him. It had been more than a year and her worst fears were confirmed – she was still madly in love with him despite how much she tried to ignore it. Her heart ached and she broke their gaze to look at her feet, her wrists still bound in his grip. He let out an annoyed sigh.

“Where have you been?” he growled making her flush. “You owe me a fortune in taxes!”

She stared at him and slowly her shoulders slumped, her flush fading. Of course. She pulled her wrists from his grip, rubbing them as she stared at the floor and he continued to glare at her waiting for an answer. She had none to give and when it was apparent she wasn’t going to speak he reached up and touched her scars. She flinched but he pressed his thumb against her and she stopped, letting him do as he wished.

His hand moved down and she grabbed it, preventing him from touching her chest. “You have a wife,” she said quietly and he pulled away making her flush. “Please, my Jarl. I should go.”

“I own you,” he snapped. “You only leave on my instruction! And you do as I bloody well ask!”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said automatically but it didn’t feel right coming from her anymore. She had been her own master for so long that to submit again felt strange. He reached for her again, his hands moving down her body but she grabbed him, making him stop.

“You’re married,” she said once again and he growled, his nails digging into her skin making her wince. “I-It’s… It’s an insult for you to be with me now! If you’re seen… y-you’ll be disgraced!”

“You idiot,” he hissed but his hands let go of her and she hugged her body, staring at the stones. “Why did you come back here then? To just leave a flimsy bow and some coin and then go?”

“Yes,” she stressed and her eyes moved up, meeting his. He was angry and she didn’t know why. “My Jarl, I know not to insult you or your name. I only came to give you some things for the treasury. I intended to leave again so… so that…”

“So that what?”

She closed her eyes, calming herself. “So that I wouldn’t tempt you,” she admitted and his scoff made her cringe. “I know I shouldn’t assume, but you’ve always said I was…”

“You’re an idiot,” he cut in and she went silent. “You stupid fucking elf.” She bowed her head in an apology but he advanced on her. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” she said and he stared at her making her flush. He cupped her head, holding her still and he moved forward making her stiffen. She knew what was coming and she grabbed his hands, her nails tugging on him. “You can’t,” she pleaded. “You’re married.”

“So what,” he shot back but she stopped him, her heart aching.

She pulled away. “You’re a Jarl,” she reminded him. “I’m just your Thane. There is no marriage or love in this. That’s how it will always be. You’ve… always said so yourself.”

He stared at her, hard but she didn’t say a word. She could feel his anger, how disappointed he was in her and he shoved past her, opening the door.

“Leave,” he commanded and she did as he asked. She ran down the steps, moving past the burning lanterns and she didn’t look back as she did; she had done enough. He released her from his service and she ran past the gate into the wilds.

Her feet carried her down the road, her running slowing to a jog and she soon was slowly walking, the early morning air creeping in through the forest, the sounds of wolves on the hunt echoing in the valley. She merely followed the road, her heart aching as she did but she didn’t cry over it, she had done enough of that already. She aimed for Whiterun, taking the path and she drew her cloak around her as she did, silent, continuing down it through the night.

She slowly walked along the road as the plains beckoned her and she stopped, looking towards where Rorikstead lay before she cut off the stone path, running up the hill towards the top. All around her the stars were slowly disappearing from the sky and the light blue of dawn was calling to her. She rushed towards it, her breath coming out in pants as she did.

She hit the top, running towards a mountain of rocks, her hands grabbing the cold stones and she pulled herself up, standing tall as a breeze caught her. It blew back her hood, the ends of her robes whipping behind her as well and she closed her eyes, inhaling. When she opened them again, the morning light was starting to shine over the mountains, a light blue mixing with purple as stars twinkled above.

This was her favourite time. A dawn breaking meant a new day and that meant a new start, something she hadn’t seen or had in a while. She was worn from her emotions, blinded from her lust and stupidity and as the sky changed to a light pink she began to flush. The wind hit her again making her shiver but she continued to stand, eyes on the sky.

It was then something was called into her mind; a realization she never had before. Years upon years ago when her mother lived and she was a child, how she questioned her, begging for answers and she was told only when she was older she would understand.

Somehow, she finally knew. The reason her mom hid them away for so long, why she wasn’t allowed near the road or near others. Being with them led to these feelings, this heartache she could barely mend from, the weight of being alone amongst a crowd. They struggled when they were in the meagre home but she was never unhappy like she was now. When she thought about it, her mother was trying to protect her. She never knew her father but what his presence did to her mom must have affected her enough to make her try and shield her from it.

She closed her eyes again, the wind rushing through her hair. She should have listened. She was so messed up now she didn’t know what to do. She turned down the only man she would ever love, was childless, loveless, and she assumed homeless as she couldn’t bear to go back to the manor her Jarl gave her and now she stood on the rocks of the Reach watching a sun rise from the east, the rays warm on her body.

“What do I do?” she asked the sky. “I have nothing. I have no prospects, no money, no home or family! What do I do?!”

The wind hit her as if guided by the gods and strands of her hair blew over her vision making her shiver and push them back over her ear. She looked to the west where the wind was blowing and a strong scent of juniper and lavender hit her making her close her eyes and sigh. It reminded her of her mother and she hugged her arms.

“That’s right,” she said softly. “I started out with nothing before… I can do it again.” She opened her eyes, looking to the sky painted like the lights of the north and she smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. She had a knapsack full of odds and ends but her skills were greater than when she had started. She could enchant, craft a few potions and even smith a sword. It was plenty for her to survive on and she found herself stretching, smiling at the morning sky.

Her Jarl had moved on, he had a child, a beautiful wife and a Hold he ruled over. She was just as he always said – a peasant – and her silly notions towards him needed to be buried so she could move on as well. She reached into her bag, digging through the various pockets and she pulled out the emerald ring she had acquired for him, holding them up to the light. It sparkled, her throat tightening as it did and she held it for a second, her heart beating, broken, before she shouted and threw it as far as she could over the cliff.

It bounced once on a rock near her then disappeared, lost among the pebbles and she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her. She wiped at the tears spilling from her eyes but she refused to think of it. He had everything he needed and she was no longer required.

She jumped off the rock, the morning light now flooding the plains and she made her way along the cliff, moving to a goat path to descend into the Reach. She stopped, looking one last time towards Falkreath, her heart pounding as she did but she forced herself to smile. She hiked up her robes and disappeared down the path.

The wind picked up again, blowing the stalks of lavender that grew along Whiterun and the day began as it always did, beasts that lingered in the night returning to their dens and those that owned the day moving out from their shelters.

Somewhere along the Reach, the black-haired Altmer mage disappeared, her footsteps moving off the road. There was a footprint in the sand, another in the mud before they were gone completely.


	63. Red Book (Various)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Is there a kink for being nosy? There is now! My prompt is sort of simple: Tell me about your dragonborns/PC's. Tell me their love interests, their backstories, their children and enemies, etc. Just give me the gossip. I don't care how. You can do a fill or merely answer - if that's alright. I'm just craving to know the dragonborns on here more.
> 
> *sighs* I still love Elenwen.

“Miss Elenwen,” one of her guards said as they stood in the doorway, hands to their sides and chest out making them look a bit comical. She put down her book and looked to them, silent as she did. “Some of your agents are back. Shall I let them in?”

She smiled. “Yes, let them in, thank you.”

With that the guard bowed and disappeared letting her take the time to pour herself a drink and sit in the chair facing the room, waiting for her company. She took a small sip of her Alto wine and was displeased a little by its ruddy texture. It hadn’t aged enough. Leave it to Malborn to not understand when to bring wine out.

Three of her Thalmor agents entered the room, walking in a straight line before they split, standing in a row. She looked to them, her eyes inspecting them for a moment before they bowed and she relaxed. “As you were,” she said softly letting them become a bit more casual. Her guard, which had let them in came forth and handed her a small package wrapped in brown linen. She took it, curious, but let it on the end table by her goblet of wine. “Thank you, you may leave.”

“Ma’am,” her guard bowed and she was left alone with the agents. She waited, crossing her legs as she did.

“What brings you back to the embassy?” she addressed all three and they hesitated before Ondolemar spoke up, stepping forward from his place at the far left.

“We all seemed to have gathered the information on our targets at the same time,” he said. Elenwen raised a brow. “We’re here to report.”

How fascinating. She tapped her nails on the armchair. “Well then. Proceed.”

They hesitated before Ancano stood up, taking the lead from the far right. She gave him a curious look. “Ancano… remind me, what is it you were doing?”

He held his head high at her. “I was trying to allow you to let me into that damnable college to see what they were doing,” he said with a bit of bitterness. “But you instructed me to follow an Altmer in Falkreath to prove myself first.” He gave a look to the other agents, one of smugness. “And I believe I have.”

Elenwen took a sip of her wine, not saying anything. Such a loathsome smug Thalmor he was. He practically believed he should be the diplomat and not her but she was determined to make sure he was put in his place before he made any demands. When she didn’t speak he hesitated before going forth, pulling out a red journal. He was going to just give it to her but she put up her hand. “Read it.”

He looked shocked. “My lady,” he said.

“Entertain us with your findings,” she merely stated, enjoying watching him become uncomfortable. “Tell me about that Altmer… who was she? A rogue?” She actually couldn’t remember. Ancano sighed but stepped back in line, looking to the other two agents who were staring forward but smirking. He grumbled.

“Her name is Kjersti Spring-born,” he reminded her in a miserable tone. “She’s an Altmer in Falkreath. A curious little thing with black hair. Was arrested and taken to Helgen with the Stormcloaks.”

She remembered now. As she recalled, the woman’s head never rolled and Tullius had commented on making a mistake with her later when it was revealed she escaped. But she didn’t believe it. The humans were stupid and a wrongful arrest seemed likely but it was intriguing that an Altmer had been sent to the block with Stormcloaks. She wanted to know the story. 

“Go on,” she said, hiding a smile behind the goblet to her lips. He didn’t have a choice but to continue.

“Fine,” he muttered. “It seems she was arrested trying to cross the border between Falkreath and Cyrodil. She insisted it was to go home but I cannot confirm that. Previous to her being arrested, she seems to have entered into Skyrim with her mother seeking help.”

“Where is her mother?” Elenwen asked, a bit curious.

“Dead. Seems the thing had rock joint and died at the Hall of the Dead in Falkreath. I found her grave there riddled in flowers so, the mer seems to mourn her. After that she was arrested at the border and sent to be with the prisoners to be executed at Helgen,” he sighed. “When I inquired, one said she might have been a spy since they never seen her cross into the province.”

“Do you believe that?” she asked and he snorted.

“No. Although she is a mer, the thing can’t read. She’s-!” he took a moment but that uncontrollable fury came forth, one of the reasons Elenwen didn’t trust him. “She’s insulting to us! Her intelligence seems to be of average and she serves a Nord, indicating just as much. It’s like she isn’t even aware of our superior race!”

Lorcalin spoke up next to him. “What a shame,” he sighed. “She must be one of those Altmer who escaped before we gloriously came in. One of those deserters.”

Ancano turned on him. “She isn’t. I checked around and sent word to the homeland; no one has heard of her and she is young – not even hitting a hundred yet. Her mother, though, vanished from the Isles some time ago…” He looked back to Elenwen who was listening to it all, thinking. An Altmer disappearing and later producing a child somewhere unknown. She must not be a full Altmer then. “She’s not a spy, seems to have been caught at the wrong time, but she is one to watch regardless.”

“How so?” she said. Her men were stretched thin already and if he was suggesting putting an agent on her, she would make it him or no one and he seemed to sense that.

He hesitated. “After escaping her little execution and the dragon, she’s gone back to Falkreath and seems to have worked her way into the good Jarl’s graces,” he said sarcastically. “That idiot Nord now has two Altmer women at his side. Seems she became his Thane after doing some degrading tasks for him and was given a plot of land in compensation.”

Elenwen took a small drink. “Did you see the land?”

“It’s quaint,” he remarked. “She’s building a homestead on it. The poor thing never seems to have any money since that Jarl of hers bleeds her dry but I did steal in when her housecarl was… distracted. She seems to be an alchemist and an enchanter. Not anything fantastic to report on it but I did witness her in battle. She seems to be a dual Fire and Ice mage.” He pursed his lips. “And she’s powerful.”

Elenwen waited for it.

“I think she might go to the college to get better which is exactly why-” he started up again and she put up her hand to silence him. She wasn’t in the mood to hear his long spiel about the mages of Winterhold. She contemplated the information she was given.

“So… You followed an Altmer mage who escaped Helgen and somehow turned from a criminal to being the Thane of Falkreath and who is close to the Jarl. Why should I deploy anyone to watch her?”

“Because… she’s… A bit too close with that Jarl,” he replied. “For someone who was nearly executed to now be right up with one of Skyrim’s nobles – and I say that loosely since the man is hardly noble – it’s suspicious. And she never leaves his side or does anything unless she’s instructed. I worry the little criminal and that stupid Nord may be up to something. I just haven’t found what.”

She said nothing for a moment. “Who is the other Altmer?”

Ancano sighed. “Her name is Nenya. She seems to be the steward to the Jarls of Falkreath. Seems the previous Jarl appointed her and she’s been there ever since. She’s pretty but plain. Uses her intelligence for the Hold and seems to have taken a liking to the other Nord in the court but she’s nothing special.”

She tapped her armchair, thinking. A young Altmer girl who was glued to the side of a Nord; she had a feeling it wasn’t out of anything sinister. She, as well as many other sister-kin she had spoken to had been foolish in their youth by… intermingling. Sneaking away for forbidden tumbles in the night with one of the human races. She reached up and rubbed a temple, sighing at her stupidity. She wasn’t proud of that part of herself, even after a hundred and some years. Still, she would like to confirm it for herself.

She put down her goblet. “Anything else?”

“No,” he said. “She spends most of her time in the Longhouse unless instructed to do something else.”

She stood up and walked forward to take the dossier from him, flipping through it herself while he watched. She shut the book and went back to her seat. “I’m not sending anyone to follow her.”

Ancano seemed relieved but a bit miffed. “She could turn out to be-”

“Ancano, if she arrives at the college then you may study her further but I will deal with her. That Jarl is to attend a party soon and I will extend it to both his Steward and Thane so I can witness them first hand,” she interrupted, watching him stand in shock at her previous sentence. “She does not sound like a threat to us or our plans. More or less it sounds like she’s a young girl who lost her mother and is holding on to whatever scraps of affection she can get.”

His voice shook. “Did… Did you just give me permission…?”

She sighed. “Yes, Ancano. You may go to the college.”

He tried not to look pleased beyond belief but his fidgeting fingers and the smile fighting on his lips made it obvious. He bowed and turned to go but Elenwen stopped him. “What are you doing?”

“Going to get ready?” he said, confused. She pointed where he had been standing making him stare.

“I did not give you permission to leave right now!” she snapped. “Get back in line!”

There was a fight over it, she could see in his eyes. How he wanted to defy her and she almost wished him to so she could knock him back down and deploy him to wallowing around Morthal but he relented. He took up standing next to Lorcalin who was trying not to laugh at his expense.

Elenwen turned to him. “Lorcalin. Grace us with your findings on… who was it?”

He looked at Ancano, then Ondolemar and he smirked. “The dragonborn, my lady.”

Elenwen took up her goblet again, drinking her wine. That was right; the dragonborn.

He stepped forward, pleased with himself as he opened the dossier in his hands. “Our dragonborn Eloine seems to be a young blonde Nord woman whose height barely reaches above a child’s and who is more fed than starved. She currently resides in Whiterun as a Thane but I have found her in every hold, doing numerous tasks. It seems she does not take up a side during the war.”

“Does she worship Talos?” Ondolemar asked from beside him and Lorcalin smirked.

“She uses all the Divines shrines, Talos included. I have managed to slip into her home when her and her little housecarl were away but she is a bit of a pig with her belongings. There were no amulets of Talos but she may have hidden it away like her kin likes to do,” he commented. “But these are merely my notes on her from a distance.”

Elenwen raised a brow. “What do you mean? You’ve spoken to her?”

He chuckled. “Quite the opposite. She came up to me. What is most amusing about her, being dragonborn and a supposed hero to these Nords, is that the girl is irrefutably… how do we say? A blundering idiot,” he smirked when he said it and Elenwen found herself scowling.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, my Lady, I’m sure you would have fun with her,” he said in an amused tone making Ancano give him a look. “The girl is as stupid as she looks. I wouldn’t be surprised if her intelligence matched her age.”

He turned to Ondolemar with a smirk. “She cannot read or write and seems to have this glossy view of the world as if everyone is happy and friends,” he said and Ondolemar scowled. He looked back to her and she found herself pursing her lips on the goblet. “In fact, she has no idea what we are doing. She didn’t know what a Thalmor was and when I explained to her in simple terms, she told me ‘that’s wonderful’.” He laughed again. “I mean, completely and pathetically dumb.”

Ondolemar smirked from his spot next to him. “How fitting for the Nords. Their hero being stupid.”

Ancano scowled at them. “How do you know that? She could have been playing you Lorcalin.”

“Oh I assure you, she wasn’t,” he shot back at him. “I followed her into Riften. A man approached her with a job doing a theft and she began shouting how wrong it was that he had to silence her with a right good punch. She seems to have a very black and white view of the world and when I asked her about the Stormcloaks, her little brain seemed not to understand if they were bad or not.”

“What did you do?” Elenwen asked.

He smiled at her. “I told them they were terrible people… which I may have embellished. Stories on killing children while they slept and kicking dogs. Needless to say she became very upset and told me that as my duty as a person who ‘Got rid of bad people’ that I should go after them,” he wiped a tear from his eye as he said it. “She would be charming if she wasn’t such a nitwit.”

“So then what is your findings?” Elenwen said, waiting. “Let the idiot do as she pleases?”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “No. She is not the problem, persay. It’s everyone else. I found out your little pet has a deep interest in her.” He held up the dossier. “Seems Ulfric the Mighty frequently seeks her out, no doubt to try and win her to his side. I’m afraid that the girl, though mentally lacking, is fiercely loyal and can be a bit of a problem when enraged.”

He reached into the dossier, sifting through pages until he found a note. “Yes, here. I discovered she joined the Companions. It makes sense since the girl is stupid and violent… but it was what I found after she had cleared a crypt that confirmed that she could be a problem.”

“Which was?”

He stopped smiling a bit. “It was an utter massacre. Limbs of Dragur torn off, heads crushed. Delving in further I found a mix of humans and Dragur and it looked as if a wild animal had been unleashed on them. She carries a large battleaxe – Divines above only know how she wields it – but it seems to be stained with blood more often than not. It would be… disturbing to have her on the Stormcloaks side.”

“Furthermore,” he dropped the note back into the book. “She was at Helgen as well. Guess a blonde Nord bound with a bunch of them doesn’t stand out much but she escaped with a Stormcloak man named Ralof. She may see them as bad people but if Ulfric convinces her to join them and hate us…” He sighed. “We may have to call all of us trained to be battlemages to combat her. She has seen the greybeards up in their little temple but it doesn’t prevent her from using her Thu’um.”

Elenwen sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “So she could become a problem.”

“If Ulfric gets his way, then yes,” Lorcalin sighed. “If your General Tullius stopped being such a tactical hermit then maybe we could get her on the Empire’s side and have her work with us – she’s easy to manipulate. But I fear the time for that is running out the longer she is allowed out freely roaming.”

She said nothing as she thought it over. “You said she worships Talos?”

“I said she uses the blessings it gives. I’m unsure if the girl understands what it means to worship.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Elenwen sighed. “If she approaches another Talos shrine and you see her, kill her. If she joins the Stormcloaks then by all that is holy, you will kill her. If, somehow, she does come to join the Imperials then you will watch her and make sure she does nothing to help Ulfric, understand?”

Lorcalin said nothing but bowed. “By your command, my Lady.”

She didn’t like it but it had to be done. “Never underestimate those who are stupid, Lorcalin. She can either work with us or we will kill her, make that clear.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

She turned to Ondolemar. “And you? What of the… what was it? Bosmer I had you look in to?”

“Yes, Elenwen,” he stepped forward, producing his dossier. “The soon-to-be-Thane of the Reach.”

“And what of her? Should we be concerned?”

“Very,” he stated. “The girl needs to be executed.”

“On what grounds?” she asked, impatient.

“On the grounds that she tried to have her way with me,” he said, unamused. Elenwen stared as Lorcalin gave him a look.

“Oh, come now Ondolemar. Don’t be a fool.”

“Yeah,” Ancano piped up but he glared at the both of them, his back straightening and his expression turning sour. Elenwen held up her hand at the other two agents and stared to her most senior member.

“Ondolemar, what are you talking about?”

He gritted his teeth. “Just as I said. She tried to assault me,” he threw his book to her and she caught it, opening it up. “The girl is mentally unstable, Elenwen. And she needs to be killed.”

She said nothing but began going through his notes. The Bosmer was named Aingi and seemed to have arrived in Markarth with the purpose of living there. His notes were scrawled with small observations on her, mostly the odd way she talked and for some curious reason, wore cylindrical pieces of glass on her face. There was a note about them being used to magnify the carvings on Dwemer ruins but Ondolemar seemed to think it false and thought they were used for something else.

She turned the pages, reading about her intentions. The girl was obsessed with the Dwemer and Falmer. She shuddered at the thought of the white demons who lay under the rocks. She recalled meeting one once on the road back to Solitude and her despite her magic, the damned being still came at her. Only a shot through the heart of ice stopped it and she remembered how disgusted she was when she came near it, its skin like leather and its eyes mere cuts in its face. How on earth someone could be interested in them baffled her but the face of an old Altmer came to mind and she sighed.

“She hangs around near that Calcelmo a lot, does she?” she asked and Ondolemar snorted.

“Hardly. She doesn’t think him to be a proper scholar and he thinks the same of her. She steals herself away into those atrocious ruins of Nchuand-Zel doing… Who knows what,” he said in displeasure. Elenwen looked at him, seeing him holding back something.

“Doing what?”

He frowned. “Rumors, Elenwen. Rumors. Though, knowing the disgusting bitch, they could be true.”

“What rumors, Ondolemar?” she demanded and he sighed, not looking to any of them.

“They say she goes in there and… feeds.”

“Feeds?” Lorcalin said before she could but she didn’t chastise him as she was more than curious now. Ondolemar shuddered.

“Sexually… and physically,” he said. “I believe she is in there sating both her desires and her hunger.”

Ancano balked. “What makes you think that!?”

He turned on him and held up his hand. “Her ring, Ancano! She is a Daedric worshipping, cannibalistic whore! I have heard more than one account of her and her little follower feeding on Forsworn that they have killed and her sexual appetites are…” he shuddered once again and crossed his arms, staring at the wall. “I cannot even find where the demon came from. It’s like she crawled out from one of those horrible ruins herself. No mention in Valenwood, nothing across Skyrim. Though the only thing I found was she did have many meetings with some lunatic near Winterhold but trying to talk to him! Impossible!”

Elenwen pursed her lips. “What does this have to do with her assaulting you if she enjoys… other beings.”

He turned on her. “She’s not just interested in the Falmer, no. She hunts us, Elenwen. She told me in her disgustingly twisted words that her mission is to mate with me,” he threw his hands up in anger. “She wants me! Because I am a Thalmor and she’s interested in ‘Thalmor mating’. She needs to be executed!”

She would have laughed but somehow she didn’t have the stomach for it. She went back to the dossier, turning the pages to see what else and the list of disturbing finds seemed to follow the girl. She frowned when she read about him finding a pair of Thalmor boots. “What is this?”

“What?”

“You finding some boots along the road?”

He seemed upset. “That’s all I found, Elenwen. I don’t know if it was one of our patrols or if she stole them but… I just found some boots along the road that belonged to one of our wizards. And it was on a route she frequently takes so I noted it for later reference.”

She pursed her lips. “Has that Jarl in Markarth done nothing over this?”

“He doesn’t know!” he nearly shouted. “I bring forth evidence and he brushes it off since the damned mer kills Forsworn and found his stupid father’s shield! It’s as if the rumors of her devouring flesh is not a bother to him!” He was shaken and angry and Elenwen waited for him to calm down some before addressing him again.

“Is your life in danger, you believe?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “My body is. I do not doubt this girl would steal me away into those ruins to defile then feast on me once I am dead. She isn’t a supporter of the factions but she is a danger to Thalmor men.”

She took a moment. “You may execute her,” she began and she watched relief almost spread through his body but she held up a hand to stop it. “But you are not to do it openly. Follow her into the ruins and kill her there.”

He stiffened. “Surely, Elenwen, you are joking.”

“I am not,” she said. “I do not want this traced back to us. Make her death look like she befell something in the ruins. Then report back to me.”

He did not speak but his body language showed his relief and peace of mind were no longer there. With the three done she stood up, going to Lorcalin to take his dossier before she addressed them all. “So. Leave the Altmer in Falkreath be. Ancano, you may go to the college and work from there. I will write up a letter so the Arc-Mage will allow it. The dragonborn is to be killed if she approaches a Shrine of Talos or joins the Stormcloaks but if she can be brought to the Imperials, do it. She would make a better ally than be dead. And… Ondolemar, you may kill the Bosmer. But under my instruction.”

“Yes my Lady,” the all said in unison and she bowed to them before going back to her seat, sitting with her new journals to add to her bookshelf. They all bowed to her and one by one began to leave.

When she could no longer hear footsteps she took her wine and drank it down, hissing at the taste of it flooding her mouth before she picked up the mystery package she had received. She unwrapped it, letting the linen slip to the floor and was greeted by a fourth dossier. She opened it to see it was Agent Sanyon’s. She sighed but started to flip the pages to read.

He had few notes.

Zi’vah. Khajiit. Female, grey fur, quiet. No place of birth and no place of residence.

Possible thieves guild link. Wears dark armor sometimes and face is shrouded. Cannot be seen when in shadows.

Suspected to be an assassin.

She flipped through the book more but that was all that was written. She pursed her lips, going through every individual page to see if there was a hidden message left but it was only the few words at the beginning. She went out into the hall to call her guard.

“Who left this?” she asked and the guard gave a shrug.

“It was at the front gate. Ondolemar picked it up and when he came in, he gave it to me.”

She frowned. “There was nothing else with it? No instructions?”

“No Ma’am,” the guard regretfully said and Elenwen found herself feeling chilled, going back to her room. She stared at the journal, pondering whether to send some guards out but she thought against it. This was done deliberately, to send a message and it worked. Once some of her men became free she would utilize them to hunt down this… assassin. She did not doubt Sanyon was dead.

She picked up the journals, looking through them all before laying them on her desk. Troublesome was the only word that came to mind and she started with the first, pulling out some paper to pen a letter to the Jarl of Falkreath. She had a party to plan and couldn’t be worried with the rest.

But it sat in her mind as she wrote on the paper. Deifiers of the Thalmor. How they would pay.


	64. All Is Well (Various)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: Give me a couple and them spending an entire day in bed. Can be because its cold outside or for a long sex session or cuddles.
> 
> Kjersti, Alla, Eloine, Aingi (Only apperance ever), and Sadaoni.

7am.

 

She was woken up by hands pulling her close, the feeling of her Jarl’s warmth against her back, dragging her so she was flush against him. She stirred, trying to see but the position didn’t allow her to move. She decided it was better not to and hooked a foot around one of his, sinking into him to feel safe. She laced her fingers with the hand wrapped around her stomach and fell back asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeats against her.

When she was woken again it was from him nipping her neck and she relaxed, allowing him to dominate her. She was pushed onto her stomach, his teeth scraping her skin and she bit her pillow when he entered, her body shaking as he used her, sweat forming on her skin. He came first, his nails dragging down her back and she was left empty, throbbing and frustrated which he noticed. She had to beg him. 

“P-Please,” she whimpered and he sighed but accommodated her, his fingers inside her and against her rubbing until she was hugging the pillow to her chest sobbing his name into it. He licked his fingers clean when she was done and pushed her over on the bed, taking to lying down. She struggled to get up.

“M-My Jarl,” she said, breathless and disorientated. “W…What do you wish to wear today?”

He stared at the ceiling. “Nothing,” he decided. “I’m not getting out of bed.”

“But… Siddgeir. You have to-”

“I’m the Jarl,” he shot back, glaring at her. “And if I want to take a day to sleep in, I’m entitled to it. Don’t you agree?” He stressed the last words and she sighed but nodded. “Good. Now get over here.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to!” he spat and she found herself against him, her head nestled in his shoulder and he pulled the blankets up. She flushed, gently touching his skin and she pressed her ear against his chest to listen to his heartbeat, her body warm and safe under the covers with him. He merely sighed in irritation but loosely held her, closing his eyes as well.

“Siddgeir?”

“What.”

Her heart beat hard against her chest and she took one of his hands to press between her breasts so he could hear. He opened one eye to stare at her before he sighed through his nose. He pulled his hand away, burying it in her black hair and she was cuddled in his arms.

“You’re an idiot.”

She smiled against him. “I know.”

 

 

10am.

 

 

The wind howled through the entire inn, the glass panes shaking making her sit up and she pushed her hair back over her ear listening to the patrons outside their closed door.

“Nelacar?” she said, falling back down into the bed when she realized how cold it was and he stirred from beside her. “Nelacar? Something’s going on out there.”

“Hm?”

She shoved him and he was forced to open his weary eyes, rubbing his face as he did. “Alla…”

“Should we get up?” she asked, her eyes on his and he looked down to her, both silent as the wind shook the inn once again. He fell back against their shared pillow and held her against him, her tunic riding up past her hips as he did.

“No. I’m sure they’re fine. It’s just the wind.”

She sighed but agreed, moving to once again lay on his chest, her fingers toying with the loose robes he wore. “Nelacar?”

“Yes?”

“I’m cold.”

He opened his eyes and leaned up, grabbing the blankets and she let out an irritated sigh. “No, Nelacar. I’m cold!”

He stared at her. “That’s why I’m getting the blanket…?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him down on the bed making it creak. “Alla!” he protested but she shut him up with a kiss, throwing her leg around him to sit above him, her hips rolling against his.

“I’m. Cold.”

“…Oh.”

 

 

12pm.

 

 

Lydia knocked on the door once again, pressing her ear against it to see if there was any noise. “Eloine? Eloine, are you awake?” There was no answer and she cursed the barrier that had been put up, jiggling the door handle which once again proved to be locked. “Eloine, it’s past noon! You need to get up!”

She heard shifting, movements upon the bed inside and a male voice came back. “She’s busy. Why don’t you go throw yourself off a cliff?”

She grit her teeth and violently shook the handle. “Lorcalin, if that’s you then I will break down this door! Get away from her!”

“Sorry,” an amused voice came back. “But I personally enchanted that lock! You aren’t getting in so go stick your head down a well! Your dragonborn is busy…”

“Lorcalin!” Lydia screamed and the Thalmor only chuckled before looking back to the girl against him, her mouth still sucking him, her eyes glazed over and he stroked her hair. “Eloine! Eloine, get away from him! He’s dangerous!”

He snorted and looked to the dragonborn, cupping her cheeks as he pulled her off his dripping cock. “Eloine, darling… Do you believe I’m dangerous?”

“N…No,” she gasped, licking her lips and he pushed a finger into her mouth, moving it in and out making her grip at his robes.

“Good girl. The Thalmor are very pleased with how you have been… servicing us,” he commented, chuckling at the double meaning and she smiled, reached to hold his hand as she sucked on his finger, her lower body started to rub against his thigh. “Do you want it?”

“Yes…” she panted and he pulled the little Nord onto himself, pulling down the panties she wore as he teased her soaked opening making her pant. “M-Master Lorcalin!”

Lydia began slamming her fists on the door. “What!?? Eloine, don’t! Don’t fall for him! He’s using you!”

“That I am, Lydia!” he yelled back and he slowly pushed into the meek dragonborn’s body, loving how she gripped him, panting his name against his ear. “Good girl, Eloine… Keep servicing your superiors.”

“Y-Yes! I… I will! For… For the empire!” she moaned, repeating the lines he had taught her and he laughed as he heard Lydia screaming from outside, the sounds of a sword hitting the wood as she fruitlessly tried to break down the door to save her Thane from him. He gripped the Nord, forcing her to look at him and he pressed his lips against hers.

“For the empire, my dear.”

 

 

3pm.

 

 

She pushed the glass against her eyes again, quiet as she studied the room. Her cheek twitched, her fingers fidgeted and she looked over to her naked friend who was smoothing back her hair. “Most,” her cheek twitched. “Enjoyable.”

Eola turned and laughed, reaching to squeeze the Bosmer’s hand. “Yes, I think you chose well, Aingi. Pity we can’t eat him.”

Aingi shook her head, pushing the glass against her eyes again. “Bad decision. Bad. Thalmor would come after us. Bad meat anyways. Forsworn is good meat. Falmer is better meat. Dunmer? No, no, Dunmer is best meat.”

“Alright, alright,” Eola said and they looked down at the bound and gagged man in between them, his eyes still closed and his body covered in sweat. “Shame, though. I really hate the Thalmor despite how good this one is.”

Aingi nodded and her cheek twitched. She ran a hand over her breasts down to her stomach and she scratched, massaging away the hunger pains. “Hungry. Must eat soon. But Falmer getting scarce.”

Eola leaned back on the bed, her fingers tracing over Ondolemar’s body making his eyes open and his hands once again attempt to free themselves but it was futile. He let out muffled screams but they were ignored as Eola looked to her friend. “Do you still have any more of that… what was he? Your housecarl?”Aingi sniffed and pushed the glass against her eyes, her fingers moving to scratch rapidly at her arm. “Aingi, stop that. We talked about this.”

“Sorry. Natural reaction. Caused by spore. Spores, spores… Blackreach. Yes, Blackreach. Need to go to Blackreach, very good meat there,” she babbled and Eola smiled.

“Do you want to go back there? I do admit it is very lovely…” she sighed and Aingi gave a nod before turning back to look at Ondolemar. He looked to her, her eyes enhanced by the glass and she moved them up to stare at him revealing her pitch black eyes. He shuddered and tore at his restraints.

“Go back. After sex. Still hungry,” she licked her lips and grabbed him making him let out a muffled cry. “Thalmor not bad. Bad to eat. Good for sex.”

Eola smiled and crawled onto Ondolemar, facing her friend as she helped her get him back up, moving him so she could enter. Once she did she kissed her, their tongues meeting and she took her hand, moving it down to her sex.

“Yes. We’ll play with him a bit more then we can go to Blackreach.”

Aingi kissed her. “Yes. Crave Falmer. Need to see Dwemer too. Miss artifacts. Need more cogs.”

“Of course, my darling,” she cooed and they began once again with the Thalmor agent under them pulling at his restraints. His wrists were rubbed raw, blood dripping from his ankles but he kept fighting, his humiliation already having past. He knew if he did not get free he would be dead before the next dawn.

Once again, Eola commented from above. “I really would like to eat this boy though, Aingi.”

He thrashed at her words.

 

 

7pm.

 

He kicked off his boots, rubbing the back of his neck for a second before he pulled off the last of his armor, setting it down near the bed. Despite his tunic itching he kept it on and quickly washed his face, the water feeling like heaven on his skin. On the bed the Dunmer stirred and he sighed as he watched her turn and slowly open her red eyes, her black hair falling down over her face.

“Hi,” she said in a soft voice and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Hi.”

She leaned up, revealing she was bare underneath the blankets and he flushed but tried not to react, drying his face with a cloth before he went to sit on the foot of the bed, slipping off the foot wrappings he kept on under his boots. He felt her chest press against his back, her arms wrap around him and he savored it, holding her to him.

“Another tough day?” her voice was like a whisper in the wind and he leaned against her, pulling her arms off his neck so he could hold her hands.

“Yeah.”

She tugged, beckoning him into the bed and he accepted it, sliding under the covers to be with her, his hands wrapping around her small frame. She buried her face against his neck, softly kissing his shoulder and he ran a hand through her hair.

“Do you wish to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he admitted, finding comfort in her shy embrace and in the timid kisses she left on his skin. “Just… glad to see you back.”

She stopped kissing him and he could feel her shift, her dark ears a bit bright. He chuckled and pulled her into his arms making her gasp, his mouth against her neck and she whimpered against him, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“F-Fasendil!”

“Sadaoni,” he purred and she squirmed against him, her cheeks flushing, her fingers gripping him tight and he rolled her onto her back, looming over her. She covered her face in embarrassment and he chuckled, kissing her fingertips. “Still shy about this?”

She shook her head but didn’t take her hands away from her face. “I’m… just happy… you’re back here. In Riften.”

She pulled them away looking deep into her red eyes and he gently kissed her making her whimper. “That’s sweet of you,” he said and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her until she was pressed against him, her breaths against his. “I’m back on a break.”

She stared at him, the words not clicking until he ran a hand down her side. She swallowed and stared at him, her eyes becoming wide. “A break? You mean…?”

“I’m not in the Empire’s service at the moment,” he said. “I’m at my own.”

She gave him a look of pure happiness and he couldn’t help but kiss her over it, pushing her down on the bed to show his affection. She clutched his body, eagerly giving it back.

“What will you do then?” she said softly against his ear and he turned them on their sides, catching her as he did so he could see her excited face.

“I don’t know,” he mused. “Why don’t we sleep on it… and then see if we feel like getting up tomorrow?”

She smiled and kissed him in response.


	65. Pain, Violence, Sleep (Various)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hefty collection of OC/NPC Pairings, most written for the Skyrim Kink Meme. All feature OC/NPC pairings with some being dragonborns and some not. Each will range from tame, general fics to hardcore explicit sex between certain pairings. Warnings will be listed in each Chapter.
> 
> Note: Each chapter is a different fanfiction with pairing. Authors notes at the beginning will list which prompts were used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: So, dearest anons, since I'm a curious cat. How does YOUR Dragonborn die? And what happens after they do?
> 
>  
> 
> Well, this is the last. Fitting that it's my death fic, ha ha. But now, this all comes to a close. Looking back, I wrote a lot for the meme, which is funny when I consider that I was never really popular on there. I never made any friends within this fandom and even to this day I'm still not considered very good. Sure, I got comments on the memes. A few flames. But in the end, no one noticed when I left or cared. Huh. Well, it was a good learning experience for me. I got a bit better at writing. I learned to write Hetero again, that's for sure. And I had some fun here and there. But I don't think I would go back to it.
> 
> Maybe in the next Elder Scrolls games, I'll come back. But until then, it was fun.

She was kneeled before her master. Her eyes were speckled with dark spots, her skin a bright white, her hair a dull red and hundreds of pages from so many burned and ruined books were scattered around her body. She was staring down at them, feeling her master’s presence above her and slowly the tentacles came, gentle as they touched her making her flinch before his full fury came upon her. She didn’t mean to come back empty handed for a third time. Honest.

She was forced into the air, her breath being squeezed from her lungs making her gasp and she looked down at him. “H…er…ma…eus…”

The daedric prince merely slammed her to the ground making her cough and spit in agony before he drew closer to her. “I see now… it was a mistake…” she raised her head, clutching her neck as she did and she shrunk back as his limbs came at her again, pulling her from the ground. “You were not the champion I had hoped for, Alla. You… never were what I wanted dragonborn… How you've disappointed me.”

She stared at him, her chest tightening, her vision clouded but she did not fight back. She went limp in his grip and nodded slightly as if to agree with him. She didn’t really have any argument to defend herself. She never did and even now as her life was being held in his hands, all she could do was beg for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said softly and he tightened his grip around her neck, choking her.

“As am I… dragonborn…” he said and it took only one tentacle to pierce her chest. She opened her mouth to scream, her voice never coming before she closed her eyes, the tears falling but she forced a smile. 

Even through the pain, she could somehow smile.

“F-Forgive me,” she said softly. “For… not being what… you wanted.”

He said nothing and she finally succumb to him after two long years of service. Two long years to which she had lost everything; her friends, her lover, and now herself.

Her body dropped to the plane, blood coating the space around her and the prince of knowledge merely stared at her flesh, slowly the skin melting away and the bones crumbling until there was nothing but ash and his lingering disappointment. He moved, reflecting on the mortal plane which he now had to go back to, to search for a new champion to please him.

The first and last dragonborn’s were obviously poorly chosen. He would not make that mistake again.

\--

There were weeds threatening to grow around his grave again making her search for a dagger to cut them away when a screaming alerted her gaze up. She stood, looking towards the town, an uneasiness coming over her when a guard came running down the path making her turn to him.

“What’s going on?” she asked and the soldier ran into the Hall of the Dead making her frown before he came out and went to her side.

“Priestess, you need to leave! There’s a bandit raid going on!” he said, grabbing her hand to indicate she needed to run as he turned to go himself up the path making her frown. She pulled away and he gave her a look before sweeping his hand towards the small town of Falkreath. “All the people need to run to the hills! Now!” he shouted and she could hear the sounds of the townsfolk leaving, some screaming louder as fireballs began to hit the eastern gate.

She looked down at her Jarl’s grave and slowly swallowed before she sat down. She made a promise.

“I can’t.”

He stared at her, shocked, then collected himself and grabbed his sword. “I warned you!” he said and he disappeared up the path leaving her alone. The sounds of the screams were starting to terrify her but she had her magic. She could defend herself if needed and she remained by her Jarl’s tomb, her fingers shaking as she brushed off small bits of dirt, working to make sure the weeds were gone.

She could hear the bandits now in the town, the looting apparent as glass was broken and things were smashed in the streets but she remained where she was focused on her Jarl’s tomb. She made a promise.

It didn’t take them long to find her and she shook as they came near. Two large men and one lean archer, one of them holding a greatsword as long as him and the other carrying two bloody axes.

“Oi? Who’s that?!” the one with the axes said, pointing at her as the other bandit readied his sword.

“Dunno. Looks like a priest. You a priest!?” he shouted and she flinched and turned a bit, her fingers remaining on her Jarl’s tomb. She didn’t speak, only stared at them and they came closer making her palms cold and her knees shake. She wanted to cast a spell, truly, to burn them and scare them off but her magic didn’t come. She was too frightened.

The archer strode forward and used the nook of his bow to hit her hood forcing it to fall back and reveal herself, her black hair spilling down and the three stared at her. “Hey! Lookit! It’s an elf!”

“What’cha doing here, elf?” the axe-wielding bandit sneered. “Why ain’t you running to the forest like everyone else?”

She didn’t speak, still too terrified to do so and it made them laugh.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?!” the one with the greatsword brought his blade over, aiming at her but she didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on the archer, however. She could tell between the three he was the one who wanted blood.

“Please…” she finally spoke, her voice shaking. “Leave.”

“What’s that?” the one spat making her shrink back and she moved slightly, using her body to shield her Jarl’s grave.

“P-Please. Leave.”

They laughed and she didn’t blame them. They laughed at her, how stupid she was and the archer pulled out an arrow, aiming it right at her head. She stared at him, her eyes locked on his and for some reason, she didn’t ready her hands again. She couldn’t. She didn’t defend herself, she merely stayed blocking her deceased lover’s grave, her back touching his tombstone and her fingers shaking as they gently touched the soil.

The archer smirked. “Any last words?”

She merely stared at him, fear in her heart and she didn’t stop until the arrows tore her soul from her body.

\--

It was the second time she had fallen and finally her friend stopped his gathering and went to her side, gently taking her arm to help but she merely laughed. “I’m okay.”

“You are clearly not, Eloine,” Gelebor said as he helped her up, her old frail body now hunched over severely. “It was a mistake to bring you down here.”

“No! No!” she croaked, her once sweet voice now thick with age, the wrinkles around her eyes collecting more as she smiled at him. “No, Gelebor. I’m okay. Just tired.”

He let go of her, his body the same, his face the same and his skin still that vivid white and for a moment she looked at him almost envious. Akatosh was still keeping him as he was while she deteriorated. She had the blood of a dragon and should be blessed but she supposed it was as Odahviing said once. She was mortal and would die as she was not meant to house her dragon’s soul in her meaty body.

She found herself chuckling and she looked down at herself. She could at least see her feet now and her laughter made her old friend worry more. “Come, Eloine. We’re going back up to the chantry.”

“Gelebor, you’re treating me like I’m…” she hesitated and he looked to her.

“Old?”

She nodded and he sighed, coming back to her side as he pulled her old sabre cat hide up her body, the black fur shining in the light. “Because you are. You’re… mortal, my dear friend.”

“So are you,” she reminded him but now she was beginning to doubt it. She found herself coughing and he bundled her up making her lightly swat at him. “Gelebor!”

“This is far enough, I’m taking you back to the chantry. No complaining!” he snapped and she had no choice but to be led back to the shrine and through the portal, a short passage of time between him stepping through to the broken balcony where their small camp lay. He set her down but ushered her back to the patchwork tent she had made, her bed still unmade from the morning, the furs heavy as he made her sit and lie down.

It was comfortable she had to admit. Her furs from the sabre cats she had killed and the feathers from the snow geese that had returned to the Vale all sinking beneath her. So comfortable she wanted to close her eyes and sleep forever but her old friend coming to her side with his odd tea drew her up.

She took it, drinking the mixture of crushed berries, milk, and honey and for a second she felt like her old self. Like she could take up her old Dawnguard Warhammer and lay waste to the lands. But it passed and she was old again, her bones showing, her skin wrinkled and white and she fell back down in her bed, sighing as she looked up at the ceiling of her tent.

“Gelebor?” she asked and he looked to her, silent. “Where will I go when I die?”

He said nothing for a moment. “Auri-el will decide, my friend.”

She frowned at his words. “Will I go to his place in the sky?”

He was quiet and she looked to him, wanting an answer but he had none. He reached over holding her cold hand for a moment, squeezing it to reassure her and she found herself weary as she squeezed back. “Will I see you again after I die?”

“Get some rest, my friend,” he said as he took her cup and he went out leaving her alone in her tent with her thoughts and old bones. She could see him move to the shrine of Auri-el they had made, to pray again as he did every day and she sunk into her furs as she thought about death.

So long ago she had walked in a strange land. She had told it was a place for heroes, a nice sounding name, and she wondered if she would be there again. It was only when she closed her eyes that night, the winds sweeping in from the west to kiss her, the feeling of dragons fire and mead in her stomach making her stir that she opened her eyes and found herself no longer with her friend.

It frightened her until she saw a man. He came from behind her, larger than any man she had ever seen and he bowed to her which made her stare. “Dragonborn… we’ve been expecting you.”

“Me?” she asked, confused, reaching to touch him when she noticed her hand. It was smooth and pure just as Gelebor’s was and she held them up in shock when the large man extended his arm.

“Yes. You who have slain Alduin, who have protected the lands from vampires and have honored your blood well. The Great Hall is waiting for you.”

She found herself frowning. “What about my friend? Gelebor?” she looked around, expecting to see him but he was nowhere in the world she was in which lacked snow or the cold of the west. “Is he there?”

The man frowned, not understanding and he instead leaned forward, taking her hand to make her look back. “Dragonborn, your friends are all in the Hall waiting. They have been for a long time.”

She still looked for Gelebor, tears forming in her eyes. “But…. My friend. He’s an elf.”

“There are no elves here, my dear. Only the heroes of old,” he said and she began to weep. She hadn’t even said goodbye.


End file.
